The Return
by CrimsonSympathy
Summary: Thirteen years after Sarah defeated the Labyrinth, Jareth shows up to forcibly enlist her help. The Labyrinth and its citizens are in peril, and all can be saved only if the two of them work together. Unbeknownst to them, there are darker forces at work that intend to pull the world down about their ears. (unrepentant J/S) COMPLETE!
1. Long Live the King

**A/N:** Hello everyone!

I was just showing the movie Labyrinth to my baby sister (she's 8, I figured it was time), which made me think of the story that I wrote _11 years ago_. Jeez, has it been that long?

I have learned more and better things about the writing craft since then and I decided to re-write the old story with some new stuff in it. I have an _actual outline_ this time, and I hope that it will be bigger and better than the last. Same general idea, but with a much better conclusion.

I hope you enjoy, and please remember to **review.**

Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from _The Labyrinth_. Just having a little fun.

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 **Prologue**

 **'The Between Places'**

A sound like thunder tore through the air and, hard on its heels, a low tremor flowed through the stone floor of the castle beyond the goblin city. The king lifted his head from where he had been watching the battle unfold within the depths of one of his crystals, his eyes finding a goblin who had just appeared, panting, his eyes wide in panic.

"Sire!" The goblin squeaked, "The enemy has breached the castle!"

Jareth glared at him and rose to his feet, "I know. I can feel them."

"What do we do? There are too many of them!"

The Goblin King rolled the crystal along one slim, gloved hand. "I believe it is high time I enter the fray."

The goblin trembled as it bowed low, its metal armor clanking, "My liege, it may not be enough. There are thousands of them, sire, and Dionysus—"

"Let me handle Dionysus," Jareth snarled. "And mind your place." He cloaked himself in his battle armor, and reached for the Labyrinth, finding its presence reassuring despite the turmoil it felt over the civil war waged within its walls. Crystal held loosely in one hand, he strode past the little creature toward the direction of the main mêlée.

He never saw the sword rise at his back. When it plunged in, it was like ice, so cold that it almost burned. Jareth struggled to take a breath, blood bubbling between his lips, the bitter taste of salt hot in his mouth. The crystal fell from his fingers as the goblin came around to face him, grown tall without the illusion cloaking him. The warrior goblin grinned savagely, reached up, and ripped the medallion from the Goblin King's neck with enough force to bring him to his knees.

"You," Jareth whispered, words strained past the blood and the sword through his back.

The goblin's smile widened, "Me," he confirmed. "Long live the king."

Dionysus tightened his grip on the dagger in his fist and slashed it toward the Goblin King's throat. Jareth reacted without thinking, reaching for his sanctuary, his hidden place, but the sudden loss of his main strength, coupled with his injuries, made him miss his mark. In a blink he was gone from the solar, his body and mind scattered into the place between the worlds.

####

There was no sense of up or down. Light or dark. Mind or body. The passage of time did not exist here. There was nothing but the void, as far and as wide as the entirety of all the worlds that ever were or ever would be.

Betrayal. Loss. He held on to these like a lifeline, anchoring enough of his thoughts together so that he did not scatter into oblivion. He drifted, unaware of anything save the pain.

He was not sure how long it had been when a thought struck him. Something that had haunted his mind and his dreams for thirteen long years.

A name. A face.

 _Sarah_.

 **Chapter One**

 **'Return of the King'**

Jareth watched her home for days, gaining the strength he needed for the tasks to come.

He watched Sarah come and go, oblivious to his presence. Saw her weed the flower beds near the front door, and smile at her neighbors. He watched as she carried boxes of supplies from her car into the house, kicking the door open as she backed in. He watched as, one day, she drug her little brother Toby, now as tall as she, into the car and brought him back some hours later with a garment bag slung over her shoulder.

Most of all he watched, with a little stab of pain through his chest, when she kissed her paramour good-bye in the morning, and a similar greeting in the evening when the man returned home.

She had grown, matured. He knew this from those lone, empty years that he had commanded the crystals to show her to him, but seeing her in the flesh was somehow… different.

Now there was a sense of movement from inside, quick flashes of shadow across the windows though no one had emerged yet. Jareth brushed the curtains at his side and waited.

After a good half hour, the paramour came out, briefcase in one hand and a rolling suitcase in another. Sarah followed him, her arms crossed against the cold of the morning, clad in a t-shirt and jeans. Her bare toenails were painted a brilliant blue.

The couple embraced next to the man's shiny black sports sedan. Sarah wished him a safe flight, and the man waved to her at the end of the driveway, before he headed down the deserted street.

Sarah and Jareth watched the progress of the black car until it was out of sight. Sarah turned back inside, and Jareth stayed still.

The street would soon empty of people. Jareth wanted every human worker to have fled to their strange glass towers before he tried to take her. If she made a scene, he wanted as few of them within earshot as possible.

The Goblin King waited.

####

Sarah flipped a page in _The Art of French Cooking_ and frowned. Every time she read a new mouth-watering recipe, she realized she'd have to go to the store again and buy something else she didn't have. _Who even has a crepe pan these days?_

As it was, even with Michael's sizeable kitchen all of the cupboards and the pantry were full to bursting with her culinary purchases. Michael joked that she spent her entire paycheck on food, and he was mostly right.

There was a knock on the door and Sarah marked her place on the page with a thin post-it note before setting the heavy volume on the glass coffee table. She sprung to her feet and leaped to the door. She was practically _skipping_ and had to force herself to walk at a more sedate pace. For some reason she could not place, she felt suddenly elated. Happier than she had been for a long time, considering how much stress she had been under with full-time work, school, and planning her wedding to Michael.

She opened the door, a smile wide on her face.

####

Jareth felt the blood light like a fire in his veins at the sight of her. She was so close, close enough to reach out and touch, and her smile was glorious. Brighter than the crescent moon.

"Sarah," he breathed.

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She stared longer than was polite, but the stranger looked damned odd. He was dressed like he was on his way to a community playhouse—that or a glam rock concert. She felt a stab of pain at the thought of the former. She had given up on those dreams a long time ago.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to stare. Are you collecting for a local theater group?"

The man shook his head, a little furrow between his brows.

Sarah opened her mouth to say something else and then took a half step back. _He said my name_. She almost hadn't caught it—not just because he had said it so softly, but because the mere sight of him was so completely abnormal for a white-collar suburb. It had thrown her off guard. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

The man tilted his head. "Don't you remember me?"

Sarah regarded him, trying to focus on his face. Men in tights were a bit more revealing than what she was comfortable with. _I mean,_ she thought, _where do I even look?_

"I'm sorry I…" She trailed off. There was something familiar about him, but it felt like a word that was on the tip of her tongue. The more she thought about it, the faster it slipped away. "I don't know." Her mind flashed to the little sketchbook she kept in her purse, the one in which she doodled when she whiled away the hours between classes. She frowned, _why am I thinking of those silly little sketches now? That has nothing to do with this._

####

Upon being so near Sarah, speaking to her, and close enough to touch her, Jareth felt like he was being drowned in different emotions. They ran the gambit from anger, frustration, longing, and something deeper… something he did not want to admit even to himself. He was not sure if he wanted to strangle her or cup her cheek, to sweep her up into his arms and finish the dance they had started thirteen years ago.

But there were more pressing matters. _She does not remember me_ , he thought, _I had hoped the Labyrinth's magic would not work on her_. She had seemed so different than the others, stronger, more resilient the effects of the Underground. _This could be a problem._

He reached out, his reflexes quicker than a humans, and gently pushed her inside so that he crossed the threshold and into her living room. He ignored the almost electric current that surged through him when he touched her.

Her home was larger than the house he had temporarily inhabited across the street, but that was about as far as he could study it before she let out a protesting cry of alarm. "You can't just come in here!" She said, but though her words were severe, her tone remained steady, calm.

Hope came like a silver thread through his heart. Her voice was not raised. She did not move to push him from her domicile.

Her eyes appraised him, her head tilted to one side, and her eyes crinkled as she tried to place him. _You have to remember,_ he thought savagely, _I cannot take you if you don't remember._ The Labyrinth would throw her right back into her own world or, worse yet, to the between places. It was only through sheer luck and centuries of study that he had retained his sense of self in that realm, and he had lost precious time in the process. If she were lost there so, too, would all of his hopes of regaining his kingdom.

"Sarah," he said, as gently as he could. "You must remember me."

She took another half step away from him, her bare feet silent on the carpet. He moved closer so that the space between them remained the same. Sarah did not retreat further, but she held up a hand, palm out. "I don't… I do, I mean… there's something very familiar about you, but I can't seem to place it."

Jareth breathed out a harsh sigh and produced a crystal from midair. It was not the real thing, but he felt certain she would not be able to tell the difference. He prayed to all the gods that ever were, had been, or would be that she remembered.

The effect on Sarah was immediate.

####

Her eyes widened.

Memories flooded into her head, running like a movie reel in her mind's eye. _How could I have forgotten?_

Ludo, Hoggle, Sir Didymus… the choking stench of the bog, the room of staircases, and Toby, crawling away from her. Then, the memory difficult to grasp, that final, bittersweet encounter with the Goblin King.

The Goblin King…

Jareth.

Standing before her.

"Jareth," she said, her voice high and frightened. She stumbled back, fear and something else, something so difficult to understand that she could not name it, boiling up inside of her.

The crystal disappeared as he closed his gloved fist and reached out to stop her falling. His hand clamped down on her arm in a vice-like grip. He pulled her close, and her hands fell to his chest, fingers slipping over the embroidered satin vest. Her heart pounded, the sound like a roar in her ears, and she found it suddenly difficult to breathe. "No," she whispered, the word barely audible even to her.

His mismatched eyes bore into hers. "I need your help."

Sarah blinked, and her living room disappeared.


	2. Back Again

**A/N:** Chapter two, newly minted and for your enjoyment

Love you lovelies.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth. I do not profit from this story.

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 **Chapter Two**

 **'Back Again'**

They stood in harsh yellow-red light, feet sunk deep into the thick sand. Sarah yelped and jumped out of the grip of the Goblin King. He was no longer looking at her. His head was turned, his gaze swept out toward his left, and Sarah shut her eyes tight before turning her own head. _If I don't see it, it's not real_ , she thought. _I'll open my eyes and I'll be back in Michael's living room_.

She opened her eyes.

She was _not_ back in the living room.

The Labyrinth stretched out, reaching from one end of the horizon to the other. It filled every inch of the visible land under the strange sky. A red sun blazed down on the maze, the walls black with a sinister orange glow to them, twisting and winding endlessly as far as the eye could see. Sarah frowned and glanced at Jareth, the words leaving her mouth before she could stop herself. "It looks different. The color is wrong."

Jareth nodded, his gaze unwavering. "It has been conquered."

Sarah could not believe what she was seeing, feeling, _smelling_. She remembered this place, the barren, craggy land that lay outside the walls of the Labyrinth. She had stood here once before, thirteen years ago, desperate to find her baby brother. Somehow, this time, felt even more desperate than the last. She was twenty-eight years old, too old to be indulging in fantasies. This had to be an illusion, a trick, even if it was a terribly realistic one.

Sarah took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm dreaming," she murmured aloud. "Any moment now I'll wake up."

Jareth reached out and pinched her.

"Ow!" She jerked her arm back. "What the hell?"

He smiled at her, and his sharp canines flashed briefly behind thin lips. She glared at him, but he bobbed his head in a self-satisfied way and walked toward the fountains and gardens that lined the border of the Labyrinth. Sarah glared at him for a moment before she followed.

"Why did you bring me here?" Sarah demanded when she had caught up to the Goblin King, "And why didn't I remember being here until you showed up?"

He gestured at the almost sickly-looking walls of the Labyrinth. "My realm has been taken from me," he glanced at her and then added, "The Labyrinth does not like people to remember it. Not people from your world, at the very least." An indeterminate look passed over his features before he shook himself and turned away.

She waited for more of an explanation, but when he wasn't forthcoming she stalked over and pointed a finger directly at his chest, "Hey, asshole, give me a little more information than that. What happened here?" Her need to understand the _whys_ of her memory block were further from her mind, now that they stood so close to the oddly pulsating walls, _but I'll be damned if you won't explain it to me later._ The fact that there would be a later shook her, and her mind briefly flashed on all that had been left behind. Wedding plans, school, work. _Why couldn't he have left me alone?_ _I was doing just fine._

Jareth folded his arms and looked down his nose at her. _Imperious bastard,_ Sarah though, glaring right back at him. " _You_ happened." He scowled, his teeth flashing in the bitter yellow light. "After you conquered the Labyrinth, my people lost faith in me. I've been fighting against insurrection and rebellion ever since. Approximately a year ago, they won."

Sarah jabbed her finger at Jareth's chest again, "I only did that stuff because _you_ kidnapped my baby brother."

"You asked me to."

"And then I asked you to give him back!"

He smirked. "I believe your people have a lovely little phrase that would describe that particular transaction."

" _And_ you cheated," she continued, ignoring him. "You turned the clock forward on me! You tried to tip me into the bog of eternal stench!" She took a deep breath, "And you threw me down a hole, twice! You sent the cleaners at me, made my friend betray me, tried to hide my brother when I reached your stupid castle, and—" she paused. "And your hair is stuck in the eighties!"

Jareth laughed. "You wanted to play with the fantastic, and when you got your wish all you could do was whine and complain."

"You have to take me back. I didn't ask to be here! You can't just kidnap me."

A hard glint shined in his eyes, and the Goblin King's jaw set with a click of sharp white teeth. "I can't, it doesn't matter, and yes I can."

Sarah shrieked in frustration and a sudden, harsh bolt of fear. "What do you mean you can't? You brought us here, didn't you?"

His lips curled, and at that look Sarah took a subconscious step backward, remembering when she had seen that look before. "And I used up almost all of my power to do so."

Sarah was about to say some more choice words when someone cleared their throat. She jumped and looked around for the source of the noise.

A tall, round goblin stood nearby, so close that Sarah could not believe that she had missed hearing his approach. He looked quite different than the little creatures she had seen the last time, and there was an unmistakable intelligence to his countenance as he watched their exchange with glittering beetle-black eyes. He was extremely muscled, scarred, and was bedecked in leather armor and more than a dozen swords and daggers. His greasy black hair was pulled into a top knot and his bulbous nose reddened slightly when he showed his crooked yellow teeth in a grin.

"Jareth," the goblin said, his voice like rocks grinding together. "You've returned."

The Goblin King stilled, his face a hard mask of anger. "Dionysus."

Sarah let out a choked noise, "Uh, _really?_ Dionysus? Like the Greek God of wine and parties?"

They both ignored her.

"What are you doing here, Jareth?" The goblin growled.

Jareth drew himself up to his full height. Even though the goblin was taller than most of his brethren, he still had to look up to meet Jareth's gaze. "Dionysus, the rebel leader, usurper, and King of the Goblins, I challenge you to a duel for the crown. Name your terms."

 _King?_ Sarah thought with a shock, _what does he mean, King? Jareth is the king._ She opened her mouth to ask just that when the goblin waved a hand at Sarah, the gesture lazy.

She gasped, her vision and hearing ripped from her. The world was dark, and she instinctually threw out her arms to steady herself from the sudden loss of stimuli. She felt a gloved hand close on her left arm and pull, the gesture surprisingly gentle. She knew it was Jareth without seeing him and tried to ask what was happening, but her throat would not work. She felt a finger softly press to her lips and she stilled, the beat of her heart like the pounding of surf in her ears.

Sarah could not say how long she stood like that, with Jareth's hand on her arm and her breath coming in quick, deep gasps. It felt like it had been at least ten minutes, but with the sensory deprivation, she could not be sure. It might have been longer.

When her senses were restored, the tall goblin was gone. Sarah pulled herself out of Jareth's grasp for the second time in so many minutes and tried to calm her breathing. Jareth watched her impassively, and she felt a surge of irritation rise within her, "What the fuck was that?" She demanded.

The Goblin King rubbed a hand over his face. "That was Dionysus. He was the leader of the rebellion that lost me my throne."

 _Jareth… no longer the Goblin King?_ In a way, the thought appealed to her sense of a just and righteous world but, if she were honest, the appearance of the Labyrinth was disturbing. _What in the world is happening here?_

"What did he do to me?"

"He withdrew your ability to see, hear, and speak. He wanted a word in private." Jareth sighed and rubbed his temple with a long, leather-clad finger. "The terms of a duel are sacrosanct between the interested parties."

"Well _excuse me_ , but who got hauled out of their house, barefoot I might add, by their imaginary arch-nemesis in the middle of the morning! I think if anyone is entitled to hear the terms of your stupid duel, it's me." Sarah crossed her arms over her stomach, her brows raised.

Jareth considered her for a moment, fingers still fixed to his temples. When he spoke his voice was calm, laced with an edge of irritation, "The rules of any such engagement are clear; I must find my way to the castle beyond the goblin city. Along the way there are certain… tasks I must complete, and there are guidelines as to how I may complete them as laid out by the challenged."

Sarah waved her hand, silently urging him to continue.

"Any time the current ruler is challenged, the Labyrinth hides three artifacts within its walls. I must retrieve these items before the way will be made clear to me and I am allowed to duel for the right to the throne." Jareth dropped his hand and stared for a long moment at the strangely pulsating walls before them. "You are the only one to have stepped through these gates and successfully found your way to the castle. I need your help."

"Well, it's nice that you asked me so politely." Jareth turned toward her, a furrow between his brows. Sarah felt a vicious heat wash through her. "Thanks _so_ much for plucking me out of my life to go on some bloody quest! Did you know that this was my only day off for the next ten days? Did you even _think_ about just asking? I have school, I have work, and I have a bloody wedding to plan you big poof! _Gods,_ what made you think this was a good idea?" She lost the tenuous control she had over her anger midway through her speech and was practically screeching by the end.

Jareth held out his hands toward her, palms out, in a placating gesture, though his eyes glittered with amusement. "You did not ask my permission before you summoned me to your realm the last time, and I'll have you know I missed a very important social event because of it."

Sarah drew back to kick sand at him, but her toe hit a rock mid-stride and she yelped, jumping up and down on one foot. "Gods _damn_ it!"

"Here," Jareth said, tone gentle. He placed a hand on her arm. A sensation of cool water trickling down her bare skin followed at his touch, quick and sudden. Sarah jerked away, pain forgotten, eyes wide. This was not the first time he had touched her, but the sensation that had followed was more than a little disconcerting. _Did he touch me this much last time I was here?_ Sarah thought hard, and a melody seemed to swim to the forefront of her mind, _was that dance even real?_

The thoughts flashed by in an instant, and she blinked, her mind reeling. Jareth smiled at her, "Look down."

She did and saw that her feet were now covered in flat leather boots. They fit her like a second skin and, upon inspection, had decent treading to allow for long-distance walks. "Huh," she said. "That's different."

He shrugged. "I did a favor for someone once, and they granted the gift of transmutation unto me. Since it is not tied to the power of the goblin throne, I was able to retain it after the rebellion."

She peered at him. "What favor?"

"Don't act so suspicious. I'll have you know I saved her village from a marauding pack of trolls." His lip curled and he brushed at his shirt, "Disgusting creatures."

Sarah laughed.

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Jareth's heart seemed to skip a beat at the sound of her laughter. He could not remember a time when he had heard it. Had he? Certainly not while she had been in his demesne thirteen years ago. She had been whining, belligerent, but never joyful. It was as though a sudden ray of clear, warm sunlight struck him, chasing away the lingering sense of dread from his talk with the usurper.

He turned his face away from her, Dionysus's words ringing in his head. _My challenge to you is this; seduce the woman who denied you all those years ago. Without her, you will wander through this Labyrinth until your death, and hers._

He gritted his teeth. He did not have the power to send Sarah home, not without winning the kingship. _Forgive me, Sarah,_ he thought, _I should never have brought you here._


	3. The Journey Begins

**A/N:** Hello lovelies!

I have to apologize for the massive amount of exposition in these first three chapters. I promise, it gets better after this-I've already written the next two chapters-with more action and J/S. Please enjoy and review!

Disclaimer: I do not profit in any way from these stories! I do not own any part of the Labyrinth or Jim Henson studios. Just having a bit of fun.

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 **Chapter Three**

 **'The Journey Begins'**

They entered the Labyrinth through the vine-covered gates. Sarah immediately started to the right, and Jareth followed her. They stepped over fallen branches and did their best not to touch the oozing walls.

Sarah remembered the Labyrinth as being fantastic and terrifying. The walls had glittered with mica, and while she had been agonizing over the loss of her brother and the difficulty of her task, there had been a certain excitement to the excursion.

Now, however, she was filled with a sense of dread. She slowed her steps so that she and Jareth walked side-by-side through the long corridor. It was strange to have him so close. Their contact had been short when she had traveled this realm before. Her stomach twisted as she looked at him, and a thread of fear snaked into her mind. _I don't even know him, not really._ She took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh before asking, "How did this place change so much?"

Jareth looked up to the walls on either side. "The Labyrinth is linked to the one who sits the horned throne. I suspect that this is a reflection of how it would be living inside of Dionysus's head." He frowned, and his eyes darkened slightly.

Sarah shivered.

They walked in silence for a time before Jareth stopped and crouched, peering through a crack in the wall that Sarah had not seen. "Guardian," he called. "Are you in there?"

Sarah frowned, but knelt down near Jareth, their knees almost touching. As she did, she heard what sounded like a cough coming from inside. A little creature slowly inched out of the dark crack, and her eyes widened in sudden remembrance. This was the little worm that had shown her the way the last time she'd been here.

The Guardian looked different now, sooty all over, with almost no hair and fever-bright eyes. He looked around, disoriented before his gaze fell on Jareth. "Sire," he croaked. "You're back?"

Sarah looked over at Jareth, and what she saw shook her to the core. _I really_ don't _know you, do I?_ While he was not crying, his eyes glistened, and his lips were in a thin, white, hard line. When he spoke, his voice shook with emotion. "What happened to you?"

The little creature coughed again, the sound wracking and fluid-filled. "Dionysus, my lord. He cares no' for us little creatures. The miasma come at night, and our lungs canna stand it." His head bowed. "The missus died yes'erday."

Jareth put out a hand to the little worm-goblin. "Will you come with me, guardian? I would keep you safe."

A fat tear rolled over the worms check to glisten on the wet black stone. "No, sire," he said softly. "I'll be joinin' the missus soon. 'Tis better this way."

Jareth closed the hand he had extended to the goblin into a fist, his eyes squeezing shut in the same instant. He stood, his breath a harsh sound from wide nostrils. "I will avenge you."

"Thank'ee sire." He squeaked.

"I'm so sorry," Sarah said, trying to make her words as warm and comforting as possible even though she felt nothing but a trembling shock. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

The worm looked at her, his head tilted to the side, "Oh, it's you," he croaked. A little smile curled at his mouth, but he shook his head in answer to her question, "I'm jus' a worm, I'll be fine."

Sarah wanted to say something more, but could not form the words. She stood up beside Jareth and hugged her arms, trying to dislodge the sudden chill. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see The Goblin King— _how can I think of him as anything but that?_ —practically vibrating. _Has he changed that much, or did he always care?_ Again the sense of him gave her pause, as she sought to balance the impression of him as her adversary against the man he was showing himself as now. _And,_ said a little voice in the back of her mind, _you've been thinking of him all these years…_

She had, she knew that now. Those eyes she had tried to get _just_ right in all of her little doodles were before her now. Her obsession with owls, her love of snow globes—it all made sense now.

"Guardian, can you point the way toward the castle?" Jareth asked, his tone steady once more.

The worm-goblin sniffed and turned up his face, eyes narrowed at the former Goblin King. "Ye must find it 'erself, majesty." He shook his little head, and Sarah saw tears gather again in his eyes. "If'n you'll pardon me, sire, I think I'll 'ave a little rest now."

Sarah and Jareth watched the worm slide back into his hole, each motion trembling, his breath coming out in wheezing gasps.

Jareth's fists were clenched tight, the leather strained across the knuckles. Without thinking, she reached out and took one of the hands in hers. The feel of him was like an electric jolt, but she held on anyway, turning to face him. Jareth looked at her, a cool, expressionless mask hiding his features. His hand relaxed in her grip until their fingers were almost twined together.

"We'll beat him," Sarah said, her voice soft. "And I'll help you." _I will_ , she thought, the words almost like a snarl within her mind. _He may be a kidnapping, tight-pants-wearing, mercurial tyrant, but I know he cares about this place infinitely more than Dionysus._

 **####**

Jareth was distracted, and it was all her fault.

She had touched him, willingly touched him to provide some semblance of comfort when she saw his distress. He found his gaze going to the top of her head and wondering what thoughts were hiding there. Did she think of him the way he had thought about her over the years? _No, don't be ridiculous. She did not even remember who you were; the Labyrinth had protected itself and rid the memory_. _Though_ , he thought suddenly _, she remembers now. That should not have happened._

He pondered this, mentally working through all of the Fae histories he could remember. It _had_ been years since he had studied the subject in depth.

They were passed the dark, pulsating stone that marked the beginning of the Labyrinth and now walked through hedgerows. Even here, the touch of Dionysus was clear. The once-neat junipers were overgrown, covered with thick vines that sported wine-red leaves and wicked black thorns. Jareth felt the malice that radiated from the Labyrinth like a physical presence, oily and hot on his skin.

 _Whatever the usurper has done to you, I will put it to rights,_ Jareth thought. He remembered the Labyrinth as a warm, reassuring presence in his mind. It had been the only constant in his life, one of the few beings— _if_ _a being is what you would call it_ —that had helped assuage the isolation which plagued him. Its loss was staggering, more difficult to deal with than he could have possibly imagined.

Jareth tried to reach out with what magical senses remained to him. Aside from overt magic—to will his way through the walls, for instance—he was allowed to use the abilities that he still possessed to conquer the Labyrinth. Transmutation was one of those abilities, as was the gift to sense the presence of creatures and possible threats. He had to work harder at it now than he used to when the power of the Goblin Throne flowed through him.

Something seemed to pulse outward at him from the right and he flew out an arm to stop Sarah. She ran into him, gave a small grunt of surprise, and began to say something when he shushed her.

The hedge where he had felt the presence rustled and an old wizened goblin shambled into the path, his hands flapping about his face as though he were warding off fairies. The hat on his head was crooked, the long peak bent almost double, and there was a soft wheezing from the tip. Jareth narrowed his eyes and called out, "Wiseman!"

The goblin made a grumbling noise and looked around, his milky eyes narrowed. "Who?" He called, his voice low and wavering.

"Oh, I remember him!" Sarah said, "He gave me advice last time I was here. Sometimes we feel like we are not getting anywhere when, in fact, we are… or something like that."

Jareth approached the Wiseman, her words ringing in his ears. _Later,_ he told himself, _think on it later._ He felt a renewed surge of heat as he approached his subject and saw the lacerations that covered the goblins visible skin, the hands and face in particular. "What happened to you?"

The Wiseman peered at Jareth. "Your majesty?"

"Yes. What has happened to you," he repeated.

The Wiseman grumbled, his quavering voice difficult to understand. "Mmph, damnable thorns everywhere. Took over my chair."

The hat on the Wiseman's head gave a long sigh, and a high, reedy voice emanated from the birds head affixed to the top. "He wants to sit and won't take a nice spot on a wall when he comes by it. We've been walking for days—weeks! Stubborn old man." Its bird head drooped still further.

Jareth clasped the Wiseman on the shoulder. "Here, good man." He motioned at the flagstones at their feet. They disappeared and re-formed an instant later into a great black stone chair. Jareth gently guided the Wiseman to the seat, and as soon as the great goblin reclined in the chair his eyes closed and, within a moment, his chest heaved with gentle snores. The bird hat reclined further and curled the length of its neck around the top of the Wiseman's head before it sighed contently and slept.

Sarah came up beside him. "That was very kind of you."

Jareth did not look at her. It still hurt to do so, even after all these years. _A sweet hurt, but nonetheless…_ "He is my subject, if not in name than in heart. It is difficult to see them so mistreated."

He moved away from the Wiseman and took a moment to compose himself, running a hand over his eyes to clear his vision of the awful, poisonous landscape. The Labyrinth in its current form felt sick. He had always thought Dionysus was a cruel man, but he had never realized the depth of his malevolence.

Sarah stood close to him, closer than she had ever been aside from the clumsy moment in her living room. "What can I do?"

Jareth sighed and looked at her, "Help me find the artifacts. As I said before, you were the only one to have ever beaten the Labyrinth. Your need for your brother led you through in the past. Now I need you to use those same instincts to help me, and help my people." He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he did not want to see her flinch away. He had played the villain to her heroine and, despite the fact that she seemed to have warmed to him, he was not sure she would accept his touch.

She crossed her arms over her stomach, "What are they?"

"A crystal, a pendant, and a white feather. They are the possessions of the rightful ruler of the Goblin Kingdom. They act independently of the current ruler when a challenger is presented, and have hidden themselves within these walls as a test." He gestured at the hedge around them. "They will have guardians, creatures or tasks set to challenge and stop us from acquiring them."

Sarah bit her bottom lip and tilted her head to the side. "I remember the crystals and the necklace you wore but… oh," she smiled. "You can't turn into an owl anymore?"

"The owl is the guardian of the goblins. One must be the guardian, or the king if he is to retain that power." Jareth pursed his lips at the thought. The freedom of flight, a freedom he had had for almost three hundred years, had been denied him since the uprising. While he was becoming accustomed to non-magical means of transport, he still mourned the loss. He shook his head. "As you can imagine, they're all rather small and would be difficult to find, but the guardians are a good indication that they're nearby." He waved a hand at her, "That and your natural instinct should be enough."

He said nothing about the final task. He could not. If he did, what in the gods names would she do? Run? Sleep with him out of pity, or duty? That was no true seduction. He wondered if he could even accomplish the challenge, considering their history but _…oh, but I have wanted her for so long_.

Sarah ran a hand through her hair. "Just to be clear, I'm not one hundred percent sold on this natural instinct thing you claim I have. Like you said, last time I was desperate to find my brother, but…" she bit her lip again, eyes flickering over the overgrown hedges. "This is terrible. And my friends—" she swallowed hard. "What do you think he's done to my friends?"

He took a moment to compose his thoughts before answering. "If I regain my throne by the next full moon, nothing will have happened to them. I can repair their hurts or restore their lives if I sit the Goblin Throne before a lunar year has passed. If not…" He let the sentence trail off, his eyes raised to the goblin castle far away and high above.

"How long until the full moon?"

"Four days."

She frowned, "But you said you had a whole year, and that—that a _year ago_ the rebellion succeeded in deposing you. Why have you waited so long to come back?"

His fingers twitched, and once more he felt the loss of his powers. The crystals would have helped explain this, would have shown her the truth of his words, "I was… badly injured in the castle siege. I fled and where I ended up was—" he searched for the words, "It is a peculiar place. Time flows differently there. I was lucky that I came out when I did, instead of years and years from now." It could have easily happened, suspended as he had been. It could have easily been a century or millennia. The thought made his skin grow cold.

"So you were trapped somewhere and couldn't get away until today?"

"Not necessarily. I was in your world for approximately three days before I came to you. I had to see to my hurts." _Some wounds take longer to heal than others,_ he thought, his mind traveling back to how it had felt to appear in the Aboveground, bloody and almost broken. The between world had neatly shredded him, and he had spent days piecing his mind and body back together. He was thankful that the thought of her had brought him to a secure, empty house where he could go about the work. The sword wound had healed easily enough, but drawing the pieces of his mind and soul out of the void had been a long, agonizing process.

"Are you… okay now? You're not going to pass out on me or anything because, to be honest, that would suck."

He felt his lips curl into a thin smile, "No, I will not suddenly lose consciousness. My wound has been healed."

"That's good," she said, and the words sounded rushed, almost distracted. She frowned at the Wiseman and his bird hat, and then turned her attention back to Jareth, clutching her arms around herself. "You said that those who have been hurt or killed would be restored if you won back your throne." She took a deep, shaking breath, "Who died?"

He started to reach for her but stopped himself. She saw his movement and her eyes found his, bottle bright with unshed tears. He clenched his hands into fists and held them fast against his body. "Sir Didymus," he murmured. "And Ludo." The thought of the great, shaggy beast made Jareth clench his hands tighter. _He was a gentle creature._ He remembered the moment as a picture in his mind's eye, the great winged beasts falling upon the red-furred creature with single-minded ferocity. _There was no reason to target him,_ he mused, _curious…_

Her voice shook, "How?"

"They fell when the castle fell when the rebel forces first swept through the city."

Sarah's voice hardened, but it no longer shook. A tear slid down the curve of one cheek. "Then let's find the artifacts, and depose that motherfucker."

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 **A/N:** So I was reading through some of my notes at the top/bottom of the first version of 'Perfect' and realized something! I had promised to re-work the story way back then... almost a decade ago. Wow. If I ever land a publishing contract, they are going to absolutely _hate_ me over the deadline stuff :)

Thank you to everyone who has commented thus far. Please keep them coming, they help inspire me to write more.


	4. Blood and Gold

**A/N:** Hello lovelies.

The long weekend is almost over and I may have to be away for a time. I have chapter five and some of six ready, but don't kill me if I don't update every night.

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or its characters. I do not profit from this story in any way.

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 **Chapter Four**

 **'Blood and Gold'**

The guardians, the door knockers, and the guards were nowhere to be found. Silence reigned, seeming to yawn and echo within the corrupted walls. Those scurrying, out-of-sight creatures, she had sensed the last time through were gone. The entirety of the twisting, shifting corridors seemed… lonely.

The Labyrinth changed without warning. They stepped through arched doors, passed down hallways, and the landscape shifted. One moment they walked through rows of walled alleyways, then up and down short flights of stairs, and the next they were in a mist-laden forest, the ground soft beneath their feet.

Sarah was tired, and she did not know how long they had wandered the Labyrinth. The strange sky made it difficult to tell time, and the constantly shifting landscapes played with her senses. The forest was a dark, perpetual twilight. They had been wandering through it for at least a few hours and it had not changed.

Jareth brooded silently, his expressions difficult to read. Sometimes she would catch him staring at a hollow or an empty archway, rage burning in his mismatched eyes. Still other times she would look over at him to see him quickly look away.

 _Just love me… and I will be your slave_.

That part of their previous encounter had always seemed a bit fuzzy. She had been exhausted, frustrated, and had exalted in her final triumph over her wily nemesis. But the world had seemed hazy, almost dreamlike, and she had been young. Did she even remember his words correctly?

Sarah saw a clump of low logs and flat rocks in a clearing ahead and picked up her pace before sinking down on a moss-covered boulder with a sigh. "I need to rest for a minute."

Jareth stood near her, gazing out in a circle. She watched him through lowered lashes. He wasn't quite as tall as she remembered, but there was something in the way that he carried himself… there seemed to be _more_ of him than what his physical body contained. It was if she was honest with herself, more than a little intriguing. She swallowed hard and lowered her gaze, _get a hold of yourself, Williams. You're engaged._ Her cheeks reddened at the direction of her thoughts, and her fingers tightened over the blanket of moss which clung to the rock beneath her.

The cool silence of the forest stretched between them as Sarah massaged her aching calves and stretched her shoulders and back. Then she felt something brush past her, like a whisper of spider silk and jumped. Jareth's eyes snapped toward her when she did. "What is it?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, it was nothing. I just… I felt like someone just walked over my grave."

Jareth reached out and grasped her arm, hauling her to her feet. She almost protested, but the look on his face froze her words. The line of his jaw was tense, and his eyes flicked around them. Through his hand on her arm, she could feel how tense he was. He did not look at her when he spoke.

"Stay close."

####

With the mist and the dim twilight, it was difficult to see anything around them. Jareth could not feel anything out of the ordinary, but Sarah had proven herself to be sensitive to the ways of the Labyrinth on her last encounter. It might be as she said, a simple feeling and nothing more, but Jareth had the distinct sense that it was more than that.

A twig snapped, and his head jerked around, his hand tightening on Sarah's arm. There was a rustle of branches, and Jareth looked up, his eyes scanning the tree limbs shrouded in shadow.

A dark figure dropped out of the trees in front of them, crouched low to absorb the impact of the fall. When it rose, Jareth pulled Sarah behind him, his other hand outstretched. The creature growled and stepped forward, its features clear now in the murky half-life.

He heard Sarah gasp as another dull thump indicated a second creature falling out of trees. Jareth wanted to reassure her, but he was unsure he would be able to fend off two of the creatures with his limited powers.

They were the _Lupe_ , one of the dark creatures that wandered the realms of chaos far outside the Labyrinth's boundaries. He had never permitted them into the Goblin Kingdom when he had reigned and for good reason. _They're mindless killing machines,_ he thought, _what is Dionysus thinking?_

The creature in front of him snarled, thin lips pulled back from canine jaws filled with sharp, glistening teeth. There was an answering snarl from behind him. Jareth felt Sarah's back press into his own, and the gentle pressure as she slid down and rose again just as quickly.

"Jareth," Sarah murmured, her voice pitched low. "If I brain this thing, will you be pissed?"

He could not help but smile, his teeth bright in the dim light. "No."

He felt her nod and then heard a hiss as she took a sharp breath. "This one is wearing a pendant. It's the one you wore before."

Jareth's heart leaped. He had not expected to find the guardians or the artifacts so soon. With his free hand, he touched Sarah's side with feather-light fingers. "Try not to get killed."

She snorted, and the _Lupe_ attacked.

####

Sarah hefted the makeshift club, a thick branch that had broken off at a knot as big around as her head, and swung as the creature attacked. The thing was fast and lunged out of her way so the club only grazed its shoulder. Its long arm lashed out, and she felt wetness on her stomach, followed by a cool, numb prickle.

Jareth shouted behind her, and there was a concussive _whoosh_ that nearly slammed her to the ground. She recovered, thankful that the creature she fought had been similarly hampered by the sudden explosion. In the half-second between their eyes meeting and the sudden rush, Sarah saw that the creature was equipped with vicious steel-like talons and a wide, snarling mouth lined with sharp teeth. _It looks like it could_ literally _bite my head off_ , Sarah thought, and then it was on her again.

Hot, humid breath assaulted her, stinking of rancid flesh, but she had brought the club up between her and her attacker before impact. The claws of one of its hands reared back for another slicing attack, but with barely a second's hesitation, Sarah pulled back and punched the creature in the throat.

It gagged, and Sarah felt a sharp pain flash through her knuckles. _Those self-defense classes were worth something, after all,_ she thought with a wry smile. She swung the club at the beasts head in a high two-handed grip, bringing the knotted wood down on the back of its skull. It fell to the ground, but the club shattered in her grip, and the remaining chunk leaped from her fingers to spin off into the darkness around her.

Sarah cast about for another weapon as the beast slowly rose to its feet, and left the comforting presence of Jareth's warmth at her back. She stumbled as she walked, and looked down to see blood in a crimson wash down her front, more of it than she had ever seen. She blinked, but shook her head and grasped a heavy rock from among the rotting leaves and swung back around in time to see the creature crouched, its long and muscled limbs tense at the moment before its strike.

From here she could see Jareth, chest heaving with exertion. In the instant before the renewed assault on her, she saw that he had his long gloved fingers hooked in the lower jaw of the beast he battled. In a flash, Jareth ripped the jaw from the creature. A fountain of blood sprayed the Goblin King and rained down on the leaf-strewn ground.

Distracted, Sarah did not see the beast she battled tense for a spring. She was thrown to the ground, the creature snarling inches from her upturned face. Sarah screamed and rammed the jagged rock upward into the beast's soft belly. It took every ounce of force she could muster to pierce the hard skin and fur with the blunt weapon, but then she felt a suffusion of hot, sticky blood coat her.

The beast howled, and its mouth clamped down on Sarah's throat.

Sarah reached up and tore the pendant from the creature's thick neck, her vision spotty and a warm numb sensation curling through her body. She still held the jagged rock tense in her right hand, her entire arm sticky with blood. She gave it a vicious twist upward, into what she hoped was the beast's heart.

The creature collapsed atop her, its weight such that she could barely breathe past the pressure. Her vision started to blur, and the numbing sensation increased, rolling over and through her. _I should hurt more,_ she thought dreamily, _shouldn't I?_

Jareth appeared above her and pried the jaws of the dead beast from Sarah's neck. He tossed the limp creature away and knelt over Sarah, his eyes wide and wild. "Sarah, stay awake. Stay with me." His voice was measured, low.

 _He's trying not to panic me_ , she thought wearily _, but I only want to sleep._ "Don't…" She breathed. It was hard to talk. "Don't worry."

Jareth pulled a wood and metal flask from inside his vest ran a hand over the opening and murmured a few words she could not catch. Spots of white and gray grew large, obscuring her vision, and Jareth began to look fuzzy. _I can't,_ she thought, _it's too hard to keep my eyes open._

Her lids closed, their weight unbearable, and Jareth voice rose in a panicked shout, "Sarah! Open your eyes, Sarah!"

She tried, but the dark warmth sucked her under. She could feel, but the sensations were distant as though through a thick layer of down. Distantly she could feel his hands on her, roughly tearing her shirt and then…

A searing pain brought her back into semi-consciousness. She called out, "Wha—" But one of Jareth's hands covered her mouth, putting an end to her objections. A feeling of liquid fire burned through her and she trembled, doing all she could not to scream. She felt the points of the pendant press into her palm, and the slight _pop_ as her skin gave way and a trickle of blood pooled over the gold medallion.

And then, just as suddenly as it had arrived, the pain stopped. Its absence was so abrupt that Sarah almost called out. Jareth lifted his head, his face peppered in blood, his lips and chin glistening wet and red like he had torn out one of the beast's throat with his teeth. His eyes were swirling, colors colliding with colors in a great explosive kaleidoscope, and it made her dizzy to look at them.

Without a word, he raised himself so that their heads were level and, his gaze unwavering, pressed his lips to hers.

Sarah tried to protest, but as her lips parted the same burning fire filled her mouth, searing its way down her throat and through her body in a rush of agonizing pain. Her hand, free of its weapon, clawed at his back, her nails biting into his clothes. He did not move, and the fire licked through her body until it was all she could do to hold on to consciousness.

Jareth withdrew and Sarah sputtered, half sitting up. "What the hell was that?"

He looked at her, expression mild, and his strangely shifting eyes settled back into their original mismatched colors. "Do you feel better now?"

Sarah looked down at herself. She was almost nude from the waist up, sticky blood still staining her skin, but beneath it, there were no wounds. She reached up and felt her neck, where the creature had sunk in its fangs and twisted as it died. Her skin was tacky but smooth, unmarred. Sarah looked over at Jareth. "What did you do?"

"Transmutation," he said, voice bland. "I changed the liquid in my flask to a healing potion. It only works when it interacts with Fae biology. I held it in my mouth and applied it to your wounds."

Sarah felt her cheeks warm at the thought of his second _application_. Her mouth was filled with the iron and salt taste of blood. Her lips tingled from where they had touched his, and she knew it had little to do with the potion. She looked down at herself again and the gold pendant clasped in her aching hand. She looked at it, and then held it out toward Jareth, "I believe this is yours."

Jareth stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Not anymore."


	5. Whispers in the Night

**A/N:** The long weekend has been extended! I thought I had things to do today, but apparently I'm terrible at reading a calendar!

I merged my old chapter five/six together into this chapter. It's a little longer than the others, but there was a lot of ground to cover. I needed them to have a chance to get to know each other, so I apologize for the lack of "forward momentum", but this will all come together, I promise.

Chapter six should be up tomorrow. I'm almost definitely taking a break on Wednesday because it's my birthday... I get that day off.

Cheers, lovelies, and **remember to review**.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or its characters. I do not profit from this story in any way.

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 **Chapter Five**

 **'Whispers in the Night'**

They stayed in the clearing for the night. Jareth did some fancy hand-waving and created what he called 'a tent' for their rest. Sarah looked at it, eyes wide, "That's not a tent, that's a bloody pavilion."

It was almost as large as the house she shared with Michael. _Michael_ , Sarah repeated to herself, _I am engaged to Michael. Do not get swept away by a stupid kiss… he was just trying to heal you_. But she could not help but hear the echoes of Jareth's voice, panicked when she had shut her eyes. Was it the desperation of a Goblin King trying to preserve the companion who would help reclaim his throne, or something more?

An echo of years past flitted through her mind. _Look what I'm offering you…_

The pavilion was large and airy, separated down the middle by a partition of opaque cream cloth. Jareth motioned her to the right, "I prepared a bath for you, and there is a selection of clothing if you wish to change."

Sarah nodded, trying not to look at him, her arms folded across her bare torso. She ducked into a screened alcove that sheltered a large, copper tub of steaming water. A small array of soaps and oils sat on a raised tray within easy reach of the bather, with a natural sponge and a folded bath sheet on a shelf beneath. Sarah stripped out of her torn and bloody clothes, conscious only of her desire to sleuth off the blood staining her as quickly as she could.

The water was hot, but not unbearable. She sank into the tub with a sigh, then pulled her head under the water and scrubbed her face and neck with the sponge, _he was just trying to heal you,_ she scolded herself. _Stop thinking about it._ But her lips still seemed to thrum beneath her fingers, hot and trembling. _Don't be stupid, you barely know him._

When she broke the surface of the water, she noticed that the color was now a dark pink. The sight made her still, the waters cold to her skin though she could see the steam rising from it. Eyes wide, she called out, "Jareth?"

####

Jareth was able to cleanse his own body and restore his damaged clothing with a flick of the wrist, but he knew that Sarah needed time and familiar activity to help her assimilate the events of the past few minutes.

It had seemed longer, even to someone like him who had partaken in a number of battles and duels throughout his long life. Fighting lengthened the passage of time, where a split seconds hesitation could mean the difference between life and death.

 _I should have given her a weapon_ , he thought. He was unused to dealing with mortals, even remarkable ones like Sarah Williams. He waved his hands and a glittering array of daggers appeared on his camp bed. He cupped his chin in his hand, eyeing them for a time before he heard his name called from the other end of the tent.

He frowned at the summons, but his feet seemed to have a mind of their own, and they took him from his side of the tent to hers in a moment. "Sarah?" He called, afraid to startle her if she was in a state of undress. He could sense her behind the screens that hid the bathtub from view. He strained his ears and started when he recognized the soft sound of crying.

Jareth moved around the folding wood screen, and his hesitation vanished when he saw her huddled in the bath, her arms wrapped around her legs, forehead pressed to her knees. He knelt beside her, gloved hand reaching out to touch the skin of her back.

Her shoulders sagged, and she let out a long, wracking sob. His hand moved across her shoulders automatically, rubbing the unblemished skin there in calm, circular motions. "How can I help?"

She motioned with her hand toward the water. He noted its discoloration and spread his free hand over the tub. He murmured a focus word, and the water was once again crystalline. He drew his eyes back to her face as quickly as he could, but could not help but notice her legs visible under the surface of the water, shapely and pale. He swallowed hard, and mentally berated himself for his reaction. _She'll love you little if she sees you ogling her._

Sarah brought her head up slowly, and her eyes flicked to the water and then to Jareth's gaze on her. She raised her chin, tightened her grip on her legs, and licked her lips. "I've never… done that before."

Jareth understood what she meant instantly. Her world had strange rules, and she had grown into a woman in a place which separated death from everyday life. Even the food they ate was not properly respected. It had confused him during his short time in the Aboveground, having spent a majority of his life surrounded by death and the hunt. While not all of the food he ate came from things caught, grown, or slaughtered by his own hand, he knew the tasks well. Sarah, on the other hand, had probably killed nothing larger than an irritating insect.

He did not stop the slow, circular movement of his gloved palm against her shoulders when he spoke. "That thing would have killed you, almost did kill you, if you had not done anything." He took a deep breath, "And I apologize... I should have armed you the moment I brought you here." _She's resourceful,_ he thought with a hint of pride, _but she has always been that._

She let out a choked laugh. "Kill or be killed," she murmured. Her eyes were fixed, unseeing, on the screen that separated the alcove from the remainder of the tent.

Sarah let out a sigh and leaned her head over so that it rested on his arm. Jareth found his body tense in response, but he remained still. For a long few minutes, they remained that way, her body relaxing by degrees, the scent of her mixing with the steam of the bath. _This is her magic,_ he thought, _that with one movement she can chase all the rest of the world away._

When Sarah lifted her head and looked over at him, her bright eyes were red-rimmed with tears and strain. She stared at him for the space of a few heartbeats, her lips parted, before she seemed to shake herself and looked away, tightening her hold on her legs. "Thank you for fixing the water," she murmured.

Jareth stood without a word and turned from her. The moment she had looked away, the spell broke. He felt its absence like a fist that squeezed his heart. With as much pride as he could manage, he walked from her, only letting his hands tremble when she was safely on the other side of the partition.

He looked down at his upturned palms and squeezed his fingers into a tight fist, breathing deep of the cool, clean forest air that swept through the canvas of the tent. _Everything_ , his thoughts screamed, _I did everything for you._

He had, and she had rejected him.

####

Sarah emerged clean and freshly dressed from the bathing area a half hour after Jareth left, shaking with fatigue and exhaustion. _That's all it was,_ she reasoned, _I bloody well_ killed _something today, and I just wanted to be comforted._ Still, she could not completely banish the voice that tickled at the back of her head, _you wanted to touch him._

Drawn by the smell of delicious foods wafting through the tent, Sarah padded barefoot on thick carpets toward Jareth's side of the pavilion. She peeked around the edge of the curtain after clearing her throat, "Did you make dinner?"

The Goblin King sat at a table laden with dishes of food. She could smell the rosemary and butter the potatoes had been cooked in, and that, coupled with the sight of the roast chicken, made her mouth water. His eyes were fixed on the outer wall of the pavilion, but as she peered around the corner, he turned to face her, his eyes dark in the soft yellow glow of the lanterns. "I did."

Sarah took that as an invitation, and crossed to the table, her stomach grumbling when she stopped short of one of the chairs. "I won't… get transported to a magical ballroom or anything if I eat this, right?"

He smiled, fangs bright in the corners of his mouth. "Would you like to be?"

She felt heat rush to her cheek and looked down at the golden pendant she had ripped from the neck of the beast that had almost killed her. She held it out to Jareth. "Here… it's the first of three, right?"

Jareth nodded but did not move to take the medallion. His lips tightened. "You won it. It's yours."

"But you said that you had to have these to regain your throne. I'm, like, your trusty sidekick or something so doesn't that mean that it's yours by proxy?"

He shook his head. "The Labyrinth has seen you as a challenger in the past and, I believe, sees you as one now." He stopped, his brow furrowed in thought. He shook his head again, hair whipping around his face, and waved a hand dismissively. "You blooded it, so it is now yours by right. I think you'll find it has a mind of its own, anyway. Even if you placed it around my neck yourself, you would find it on your own a moment later. It knows who its true master is."

Sarah withdrew her hand, holding the pendant to her breast. "Do I get any magical powers from it," she asked, half in jest.

Jareth shrugged and motioned for her to sit. "Fae artifacts affect everyone in a different way. Please, eat. I promise I did nothing sinister in the food preparation."

Sarah took the only seat available. She could feel the warmth radiating from his legs, so close to hers, but her stomach refused to allow her to fixate on that particular sensation. It was like a chasm of need, so much so that it dwarfed the exhaustion that had settled into her bones. She picked up her plate and loaded it with bits of chicken, potatoes, and a small mountain of fruit salad.

After a few minutes of little thought but how fast she could shovel the delicious food into her mouth, Sarah slowed and began to consider the Goblin King sitting across the table from her. He was taking his time with the food, but appeared not to have much of an appetite, his gaze falling back to the wall of the pavilion. Sarah swallowed some of the sweet, clear water he had provided and wiped her lips with a cloth napkin. "What's wrong?"

Jareth glanced at her, "I believe the miasma has come."

Sarah frowned, "What is—oh, the worm, the Guardian, he mention something about it, didn't he? What is it, exactly?"

He gave a slow nod and pushed at some of the food on his plate with one long-tined fork, "It is… a sort of gas, I think you humans would say. I believe that he might have released it as a way to… twist the Labyrinth's citizens into something more like him." He paused and glanced back at her, his odd-colored eyes gleaming, "The walls of our tent will keep it at bay, but I would not recommend a moonlit stroll."

She felt warmth flood her cheeks once more before she realized he was not making an innuendo. _Stupid,_ she chided herself, _he only pretended to like you because he thought it would distract you from rescuing Toby. He doesn't care about you._

 _Not that it matters,_ she continued, _you're about to get married. Don't let some sexy, long-haired, glittery goblin king make you forget that_. She almost choked on her drink at the thought but managed to hide her reaction in the form of a cough, using her napkin to hide her smile.

Jareth's head was tilted as he looked at her, a frown curling his lips, "Is the food not to your liking?"

Sarah shook her head and brought her features to order, "No, everything is wonderful. I'm actually going to school to learn how to cook professionally, and in my pseudo-professional opinion, this is all delicious." She smiled and leaned back in the high-back chair, twirling her fork in her fingers.

He nodded, "I did not know there were schools for cooking."

"Oh, yes, there are a lot of those. There are schools for learning all the basics, like math, science, art, history, and all the rest, but there are also specialty schools for learning particular skills. A friend of mine, Larry, he went to school to learn how to dress hair." The words fell out of her in a rush, and she almost flinched at the look of utter bafflement on the Goblin King's features. "But you don't want to know about all that."

Jareth shook his head, "Quite the opposite. My dealings with the Aboveground have purely been in my capacity as Goblin King, and," he tilted his head at her, "To retrieve you. I understand little of your world."

Sarah began to tell him about life in her world, taking in savory bites of chicken and potatoes during the natural pauses in the conversation. After about a half hour, she realized how easy their exchange had become, and how her mind and body had relaxed as they spoke. The Goblin King was interested in the things she took for granted, like microwave ovens, cars, and thermostats. Through their talks, she gleaned that he used magic in much the same way she used technology so that their differences were really not so vast.

"How is your little brother, by the by? He was rather lovely company, all things considered, and I have long wondered how he's got on since you won him back."

Sarah took another swallow of water and pushed her empty plate away, "He's doing well. He's in that in-between stage of still wanting to be a kid, but not wanting to be treated like one. It's a little frustrating, but," she shrugged. "What can I say? He's almost fourteen."

"A difficult age, to be sure," Jareth answered, his lips curled in a smile.

Sarah caught his gaze and noticed that Jareth's eyes, mismatched as they were, had changed colors. She tilted her head to the side, "If I may ask, why do your eyes change color? And what was with that weird swirling they did earlier?" _When you kissed me_ , her mind supplied in a most unhelpful manner, warmth flooding up her neck.

Jareth shrugged, "Because I have yet to bond."

Sarah waited for him to elaborate, but the silence stretched for a few moments before she sighed and waved a hand. "I'm afraid I don't know what that means."

His gaze darkened, his fingers twisting the stem of his water goblet so that the crystal caught the light, "It means—" he paused, "That I do not have another to draw strength from, especially when faced with extreme peril and emotional duress."

She felt her mouth go dry and hastily swallowed some of her own water. _And what was it earlier? Emotional duress, or the leftover fatigue of battle?_

They were silent for a time, Sarah musing over the 'bond'. She wanted to ask more questions, but Jareth had withdrawn. She could see tightness to his shoulders that had not been there throughout their conversation. In a way, it made her sad.

She stifled a yawn, and the hanging lanterns dimmed with her movement. Sarah peered up at them, the pendant heavy where she had placed it around her neck. Jareth followed her motion and the subsequent loss of light with his eyes, body suddenly still. Sarah looked at him, eyes wide. "Was… was that me?"

Jareth gave a shallow nod, eyes gleaming like an animal in the dimness. Sarah found her heart speed in her chest and swallowed hard, standing an instant later, all the built-up feelings of warmth and ease vanishing. "I think I'll turn in if it's all the same to you. I'll—I guess I'll see you in the morning."

He said nothing, but she could feel his gaze on hers as she left his portion of the tent and entered her own. _I'm not running away,_ she thought, _I'm just tired._

She brushed her teeth with a willow bristle brush and paste that was so intensely wintergreen it made her eyes water, then dressed in a loose blue nightgown that had appeared on her camp bed. The bed was soft, warm against the sudden chill of the twilight evening. It rested close to the cream partition that separated their two areas.

Sarah turned on her side, gazing at the expanse of opaque cloth, ears strained to hear anything from the Goblin King. She realized that she wanted him to speak, to hear his low, burbling chuckle. _Was he really so interested in my world, in me? Or was he just making sure I was happy and relaxed so I'll continue to help him?_ She had started the evening shaken, frightened, but after only a short hour in his company, she could feel her body completely at ease, fluid and heavy as the blankets warmed to her body.

All was silent, however, and soon she could do nothing to keep the heaviness from her eyes. Her last, somewhat startled thought before sleep took her was, _I didn't think of Michael all night._

 **####**

 _Ludo stretched over the steps leading to the castle, blood matting his fur, his eyes on the sky but milky-white. A fly landed on his open lips and crawled into his mouth._

 _Sir Didymus's head mounted on a pike on the castle gates, rotted and almost unrecognizable save for the frayed leather eye patch that still clung to his dripping skull._

 _Toby, slumped over his writing desk, a red gash of a smile splitting his throat from ear to ear._

 _Her step-mother and father crushed between shards of metal and glass, their limbs a grotesque mockery of life, and bloody foam staining their lips._

 _The images came, faster and faster, like strikes of lightning in a winter storm. Through them all a rich, oily laugh rang out, and it seemed to coat her with a mountain of filth. Dark, glittering black eyes mocked her as the scenes unfolded, one after the other, each one striking deep to her heart…_

 _Hoggle…_

 _The Wiseman…_

 _The Worm…_

 _And then there was Jareth, his clothing in red ribbons, his face contorted into a mask of pain. He reached for her, his motion frantic, but their fingers could not touch and he fell, his eyes accusatory, into a pit that had no end…_

Sarah opened her eyes with a gasp and flung her hand out, still reaching. It brushed the cloth screen shielding her side of the tent from Jareth's. Her heart thundered in her chest and she sat up, the lights brightening enough to see some of her surroundings. She clutched the blankets to her breast and jumped when a voice called out from the other side of the cloth wall. "Are you alright?"

She ran a hand through her tangled hair and nodded, then realized he could not see and spoke, her voice quavering, "Yes. It was just a bad dream."

Sarah heard the rustle of sheets, and through the dim light, she thought she could make out the reclined profile of the Goblin King. He was close, close enough that they could touch if the cloth were not between them. The thought was somehow comforting.

She lay back down, and the light dimmed to a faint orange glow. "Have I slept long?"

"A handful of hours, nothing more."

They were silent for a time, and Sarah heard little movement from his side of the cloth wall. "Jareth?"

"Yes?"

"You do know I'm engaged, don't you?"

He was silent for a moment. "Yes."

Sarah took a deep breath, "That kiss—"

Jareth interrupted her. "It was the swiftest way to apply the potion to your body. I only started on your stomach because you lost consciousness."

"And you knew it would hurt?"

"Yes."

Sarah had so many things she wanted to say to him, to ask him, but she was afraid. How much of what she remembered was fact, and how much the twisted memories of a girl who had undergone an intense psychological trial? She barely knew the creature on the other side of the fabric. His intentions, his motives… all of it was a mystery, aside from the plain fact that he wanted his throne back.

 _Not true,_ her mind whispered, _you know that your heart races whenever he touches you, and you have seen the look in his eyes. The look he tries to hide._ The thought made her shiver.

She rolled onto her back, staring up into the darkened shadows of the canvas above them. Her hand reached up to trace the three-point medallion at her neck, which seemed to vibrate under her fingertips. She closed her eyes and wrapped her fingers around the warm golden points, trying to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat.

####

Jareth could sense her wakefulness.

He stared at his hand, stretched out toward the barrier between them. He had taken off the glove in his sleep, and his long bare fingers curled against the soft fabric. The thought that he had done so without conscious thought was enough to send a spasm of fear through him. _I have to be more careful_.

He took a moment to slide his bare hand back into its glove, flexing his fingers into the still-warm leather. He should not have put their beds so close together. It was a recipe for disaster, especially if his body was betraying him in his sleep.

"Tell me about your paramour," he said, voice soft. "How did you find one another?"

Sarah gave a low laugh. "Well, I rented out a room in his house when I started culinary school. His place is much closer to class than my old apartment. The area was too expensive to rent a place for me, and so my dad introduced me to him. His father is a client of his. Then, things just sort of… happened after that."

He reached out again toward the partition and felt the press of her hand through the material. He stilled, but she did not withdraw. "Tell me," he asked.

She took a deep breath and her fingers pressed a little more into his. "We shared a house. I think all the usual domestic tasks people get up to just kind of… made our relationship change. He was single, I was single. It seemed easy, and it was." Her breath came out in a sigh. "We were a year in when he proposed, I didn't know what to do. I lived with the man. It's difficult to find housing in that area, and I enjoyed what we had together. I wasn't really ready for anything more, but how do you say 'no, thanks, let's just continue to date.' It doesn't seem fair."

"No," he said. _And when did you start to care about how fairly you treated others?_

"Jareth? Why didn't you come back? After I beat the Labyrinth."

His fingers twitched against hers. "Would you have wanted me to?"

Her covers rustled, "I don't know."

He wanted nothing more than to have seen her face, but he had to be careful. He had scared her away before. He would not make the same mistake again. "I cannot visit the Aboveground unless summoned and that only occurs when a mortal wishes their child away. I… I could have come if you had used my name."

She was silent, her fingers warm even through the layer of cloth and leather. When she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper, "Jareth?"

"I'm here."

"Please don't kiss me again."

His chest felt heavy at her words, painful, but he smiled. "I won't." He let silence fall around them for a long few minutes before he added, "Unless you ask me to."


	6. All that Glitters

**A/N:** Why hello, lovelies!

As I'm sure everyone is aware, there were server issues all of yesterday and most of this morning. I just happened to check before leaving for my birthday lunch with my grandmother and lo! The sight was up.

(feel free to wish me happy birthday in the comments ;)

The good news is that I've been writing voraciously while the site was down. I guess without the distraction of uploading/tweaking, I manage my time better. There should be a new chapter up each day for the next few days.

Hope you enjoy and, as always, much love.

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any of its characters. I do not profit in any way from this story.

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 **Chapter Six**

 **'All That Glitters'**

Jareth did not need much sleep, and he lay awake long after Sarah had returned to the realm of dreams. Her hand pressed against his for hours, their fingers so close that they almost intertwined. During the night, he cast his mind back on their first fated encounter, when he had hoped, against all odds, that he would finally have the companionship so long denied him. _Such a cruel girl,_ he thought, _but what else could she have done? She did not allow me to be anything but a villain._

Now, however, he had the chance to redefine himself in her eyes.

He heard her first stirrings and rose to craft their breakfast, creating as tempting a spread as he could imagine. _I will learn what you crave, my Sarah._

Sarah wandered into his side of the tent looking deliciously disheveled. "I thought I smelled bacon." She stood by the table, frowned down at the array, and lifted a fruit from one of the wooden bowls. "Really, Jareth?"

She held up a peach, ripe and soft as down. He smiled at her and sat, raising a cup of tea to his lips. "I thought you liked them."

She rolled her eyes, pulled a plate toward her, and helped herself to the food he had conjured, even the peach. She bit into it whole, eyes closed in bliss as the juice trickled down her chin. Jareth could not help but feel a tight pang in his chest at the sight, and wondered what it would be like to kiss the juice from her pale skin. He looked away, fingers tightening on the handle of his teacup. _Careful_ , he admonished himself, _even if I succeed, she will not be here forever. Everyone leaves in the end._

When she had almost finished, he spoke, "I have an array of weapons for you to choose from for our continued journey. I can teach you a little of sword craft if you have a mind to learn."

Sarah looked up at him, grass-green eyes disconcertingly bright. _Have they always been such a vibrant color?_ He wondered. Certainly he would remember such a thing. "We don't have a lot of time before the full moon. I think I get the general idea."

He nodded, "Yes, you did show your capabilities last night. Have you had any formal training?"

"I took a few self-defense courses when I was in my late teens." She pulled her legs up on the chair, resting a hot mug of coffee on her knee. The golden medallion glinted where it rested against the blue of her night dress. "I think I had a vague impression that someone was going to come after me one of those nights."

 _If only_. Jareth looked away and stood, setting down his tea harder than he had intended. Sarah gave a slight jump, but he ignored it and moved to his camp bed. The knives he summoned the night before reappeared. "Next time, we might be fighting something more capable."

Sarah sputtered, " _More_ capable? Those things were like, what, werewolves?"

" _Lupe_ ," he corrected. "Denizens of the realm of chaos. They used to be quite like me, actually, but fear and rage twisted them until only their baser instincts remained. They are not the most intelligent of foes." He paused in his consideration of the weapons, and murmured, "Though—" He gave a slight jerk of his head toward the outer walls of the pavilion. _It cannot be,_ he thought desperately, _he cannot be changing the very nature of the realm._ But he had sensed the miasma the night before, sensed its malice and dark nature. _Dionysus is re-creating them in his image,_ he realized with sudden horror. _What were those creatures we killed? Who had they been?_

He desperately wished he could reach out to the Labyrinth, to sense its state now, under Dionysus. The Labyrinth had bid those creatures be the guardians of the medallion. _Did it do so in order that I would see what the usurper has done to my people?_

Sarah set down her coffee and came to stand by Jareth, oblivious to his thoughts, and looked down at the array of weapons. She picked up a slender dagger with a handle of twisted silver, inlaid with black diamonds at the guard. "What are you, anyway?"

"Fae," he answered, glancing at her. He banished the dread realization from his mind, packaging it away for later examination. "You didn't think I was a goblin, did you?"

"Well, you are the Goblin King."

His eyes narrowed. "Not anymore."

Sarah tested the weight of the weapon, set it down, and selected another. She gave him a brief glance under dark lashes, "You'll always be the Goblin King to me." She smiled, "Can I have more than one of these?"

He was hyper aware of how close she was, of how she smelled of sleep, warmth, and faintly of peach juice. He clenched one gloved fist and tried to smile back, "Of course you may."

####

Sarah dressed and equipped herself with her new weapons. Jareth had arranged a selection of clothing for her, and she chose a pair of sturdy black pants, flat soled boots, and a close-fitted red blouse that had some sort of reinforcement sewn along the abdomen, chest, and back. The sleeves were mid-length, and the neckline perfect to display the golden medallion that hung above her breasts.

Sarah inspected her weapons. The diamond-studded dagger she placed in a sheath on her left hip and tied the leather cord around her thigh so that it would not bounce as she walked. The second dagger rested on her lower back, its weight somehow familiar despite the fact she had never worn blades in the past.

Jareth cleared his throat and Sarah turned. He was at the edge of their partition, similarly dressed. Sarah frowned at him, "Did you know what I was going to wear?"

He smiled at her, "Not at all."

She had a hard time believing that. He was in one of his signature loose shirts, deep red, with a black leather jacket and trousers to match. Even the streaks in his hair were red. "Whatever. If you want to play Bobbsey Twins, fine. Are you ready?"

Jareth nodded, his eyes sweeping over her body from head to toe. She tried to stop the blood that rushed to her cheeks but knew she had not succeeded. He smiled, "After you, my lady."

####

They left the pavilion together. Jareth paused on the path to look back and wave his hand at the structure. It fell to the ground like rain, and then shapes rose up out of the ground. Two enormous oaks stood where the tent had been, their branches close but not touching. At her gaze, he shrugged, "The matter has to go somewhere."

He followed her along the path, noticing as he did that the light was brighter. He frowned at that. The forest had always been bathed in twilight. It had been presumed that it would be so until the end of the Goblin Kingdom. The thought struck him with a whisper of fear, _my kingdom has lasted long,_ he thought, _I will not let Dionysus pull it into ruin._ Already it was diminished past what a simple year should have caused, even as Faerie was slowly falling into decay. _He has done the damage of a century._

He wondered if the medallion at Sarah's throat was acting on its own—cleansing the realm and bringing new light—or if there was something else at work.

Approximately an hour into their walk, Sarah gave a groan of frustration and threw up her hands. "Does this forest never end?"

Jareth came up beside her, "Be careful of your words in this place. The Labyrinth can hear you."

Sarah raised her gaze to him and then past his face, up to the canopy. Her face paled, "I don't think it's the only thing that can hear me."

Jareth followed her gaze. A Firey was crouched in the trees above them, its flame-colored head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed above its long hooked nose. As they watched, it raised its three-knuckled fingers to its mouth and let out a piercing whistle, and the forest suddenly filled with movement.

####

Firey's came out of hiding, slinking between bushes and vaulting over boulders. They were dirtier than Sarah remembered, their previously gleaming orange and yellow feathers matted with soot and rust-colored stains. One of them had a rough-cut dark gray stone in one of its eye sockets, and it was this creature that stepped forward out of the pack that ringed her and Jareth.

The Firey looked up at the Goblin King, his remaining eye narrowed. "Jareth," he cawed.

Sarah took a step toward Jareth but left enough space that she could draw her dagger if need be without impediment. He lifted his chin and peered down his nose at the filthy creature, his voice low and dangerous. "Jaksaw."

The Firey bowed mockingly and then tilted his head at Sarah. "You—mortal. Who owns you?"

Jareth began to speak, but before he could, Sarah said, "No one owns me."

The Firey grinned, his tongue lolling from his mouth and his small, pointed teeth showing in a flash. He motioned his companions forward and Sarah felt hands seize her around the arms, the thin fingers digging into her skin like iron bands. She yelled and kicked out, dislodging the arm that held her from one of the Firey's. Jareth reached down and pried the fingers off of her while Sarah did the same to the other creature that had her.

Jacksaw growled, "She has no owner, Jareth! She is our meat."

The Goblin King shot a glare at the Firey, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. "She is under my protection," he called, and his voice rung around the clearing. Sarah could feel the reverberation in her chest, and her heart sped at the sensation. "You may not harm her."

The leader of the Firey gang chuckled and sauntered forward, his expression unconcerned. His followers, who had retreated at Sarah and Jareth's defensive attack, began to creep closer in tune with their master. "Those are not the rules, _sire_ ," Jacksaw mocked. "Unclaimed mortals are ours to do with as we see fit."

Sarah felt a hand slither up her leg and she jumped, clutching at Jareth and flinging away the offending limb. It scurried off to its owner, who leered at her and licked its lips. _Gods,_ Sarah thought, _what happened to them?_

"Sarah," Jareth said, voice gentle but warning, his eyes fixed on Jacksaw. "Tell them who you belong to."

Her grip tightened on his arm, conscious of the tense muscles underneath the thick leather of his jacket. Her heart hammered, but she took a step back from the Goblin King and drew her dagger, holding it loose in her right hand. "I am not his. I belong to no one," she said, chin lifted.

Jareth cursed… and the Firey's attacked.

Sarah swung her dagger upward at the first Firey that threw itself on her. It cut into the thick feather-fur of its coat but missed anything solid. Hands pulled her hair and her clothes, and she found herself pulled in many directions at once. It was not long before she realized that the creatures were only targeting her.

She was able to kick and stab her way passed a few of them, but hands still wrapped in her hair, and some pieces of the Firey's managed to find their way under her clothes and were searching, groping, and scratching even as she slapped them away.

Jareth moved from the other direction, flinging the creatures out of his way. They broke apart as they hit the long, reaching limbs of the trees above them, pieces falling like rain to begin their assault anew. Still, he managed to clear a path, and he grasped Sarah, hauling her away. Their progress was slow as the Firey's were completely disconnected, and pieces of them pulled and dragged at her with every step they took. Jareth let out a breath of anger, shoved Sarah behind him, and turned the ground the severed gang stood upon into a thick bog of quicksand.

Sarah snatched fingers and hands out of her hair and off her face, tossing the pieces toward their larger brethren. The limbs struggled to free themselves from the sucking earth, screeching howls and cries echoing across the path. Jareth's hands were on her, helping her, and within a few moments, she was free of the things.

He grasped her shoulders when they finished and gave her a little shake. Her eyes snapped up to his, startled. "What is wrong with you?" Jareth growled, "Do you know what they'll do to you if they catch you?"

Sarah clenched her jaw. "And what would it have meant, if I said I was yours?" She spat, "Nothing here is as it seems—would I have had to stay here forever?"

His gaze was fathomless, but the snarl that escaped his throat gave no question to his feelings. "If we're going to do this, you're going to have to start trusting me." He released her shoulders and swept his gaze across the path. "We need to get moving. They'll get out of the bog soon, and then they'll follow us. We have to get out of their forest."

They hurried up the path, Sarah's weapon naked in her hands. Within fifteen minutes they heard rustles and hoots surrounding them, as the escaped Firey's renewed the chase. "Where's the exit?" Sarah panted.

Jareth slowed, casting his gaze around the top of the slope they had just climbed. "I don't know," he said, his eyes taking on a preternatural glow, color beginning to swirl in their depths. "And I don't know how to stop them."

Sarah jumped as a twig snapped nearby, and a chorus of high-pitched laughter echoed around them.

The pendant around her neck warmed until it almost burned against her, and Sarah touched it gently with her free hand. An electric current shot through her fingertips, and she felt a mantle of calm descend upon her. She sheathed her dagger and grasped Jareth's hand, pulling him toward an ancient oak whose branches overlaid the path.

"Sarah, what—" The Goblin King started, but they reached the tree before he could finish. She touched its moss-covered trunk, and stepped through it, pulling Jareth in her wake.

####

They stumbled into a garden awash in golden sunlight. Sarah released his hand the moment they were through. Birdsong and the gentle splash of a fountain rang in his ears, and his eyes were filled with a brilliantly arrayed flower garden.

Sarah stood under the branches of the same oak that had been in the forest, head tilted up to the warmth of the sun. Her chest was heaving, her cheeks flushed. Jareth turned around slowly, taking in the sight of this strange and wholly new place.

The garden was immaculate. Gleaming white flagstones were set into the ground, and marble rose into beds that supported flowers from across the known worlds. Pure white statues rested in the soil of the larger beds, and a three-tiered circular fountain stood opposite the imposing live oak. The area could have fit at least three of his throne rooms within it, and for the first time since his return, Jareth could see no sign of Dionysus's corruption.

 _This place is hers_ , he realized with wonder, _but it cannot be. She's mortal._

He looked at her. Her fingers were wrapped around the medallion, and a small smile played on her lips. Her eyes were unfocused, wavering. He reached out and gently untangled her fingers from the gold pendant. Her limbs were almost completely limp, her shoulders slumped and relaxed. "Sarah," he said, voice measured. "What are you doing, Sarah?"

Her head moved toward him languidly, and when her distracted gaze found his, her smile widened. "Jareth," she breathed. She stepped close to him until her body pressed along the length of his. "Can you feel it?"

He shook his head, movements slow. Having her this close was shocking but intoxicating. His lips parted. "No," he breathed. "What are you feeling?"

Her eyes flickered to his lips and she smiled again, "Let me show you."

She rose on tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his.


	7. The Queens Garden

**A/N:** Hello lovelies!

First off, thank you Tenjp, MarieVance, and MyraValhallah for wishing me a happy birthday in the comments section. I appreciate it, and it does my little heart good. I did have a fabulous day and felt mildly hungover this morning, but nothing two bananas and a small bowl of leftover pasta didn't fix.

And thank you to all the other reviewers who I have been neglecting in shout-outs... Unnamed Wanderer, MyraValhallah, animalwriter, and Tenjp, thank you for reviewing rather consistently.

Reviews help me stay focused! Keep that in mind, lovelies :) Review often, review well.

More twists and turns in this chapter! Hope you like it and, as always, enjoy...

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any of its characters. I do not profit in any way from this story.

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 **Chapter Seven**

 **'The Queens Garden'**

Jareth's body flooded with warmth, and before he could stop himself, a hunger rose within him. He pressed his lips hard against Sarah's, forcing them to part so that he could explore her further. _Gods, the taste of her…_ his hand plunged into her hair, tilting her face up to his, his other hand coming to rest on the curve of her back. Her hands fisted in his jacket and she pulled him tighter to her, grinding their bodies together.

When a growl rose in his throat, she answered with a low, satisfied sound of her own. The world seemed to narrow down to just them. His base instincts howled to take her, _now!_ She was so willing… _and I have wanted you for so long, my Sarah._

He felt the thread of Fae magic that held her in thrall. It spilled past her lips and into him, its power like a long-lost lover. He gripped Sarah's waist and pushed her gently against a wall, disentangling himself from her grasp, struggling against her protesting motions and his own bodies screaming need to keep her held in his arms.

She made soft sounds of objection, but he stilled her hands in his own. "Hush, now. Look at me, my love."

Her eyes were still wide, unfocused, but they seemed to find his face and stop their trembling. Her gaze was raw with need. Jareth felt his own answering desire for her but tamped it down as best he could.

Her chest heaved as she watched him, her body still loose, easy to manipulate. She licked her lips and they parted, her breath leaving her like a sigh. Jaw clenched, he grasped her two wrists in his left hand, pinning them to her stomach. He tugged off his right glove with his teeth and let it fall from his mouth before he held his bare hand over the medallion at Sarah's throat, concentrating.

What little reserves of power he still retained he focused into the pendant. It glowed under his fingertips like a miniature sun shielded behind the moon. Sarah's eyes began to clear as soon as the glow receded, and her mouth fell open with a gasp of shock. He felt her body grow rigid where he still held her.

She tried to step away from him, but Jareth held her firm in his grip. "Calm down, Sarah, and listen to me." She continued to struggle, but he remained unmoving, pressing his body against hers, pinning her against the wall, his bare hand resting high on the wall above her head. "Calm down," he repeated.

Sarah finally stopped struggling, but he could see the pulse hammering in her throat. "What just happened?" She asked, her voice high.

"I'll tell you everything you want to know, but first I need you to do something for me." Sarah looked up into his eyes and nodded, her lower lip trembling. He smiled a little, satisfied. "I'm going to release you, but I need you to stay perfectly still. Can you do that?"

She nodded. "I think so."

"Good." He slowly removed the hand pinning her wrists and stepped away from her. "Stay still." He bent, retrieved his fallen glove, and slipped it on with a practiced motion. He moved further from her until there was a comfortable distance between the two of them. "Thank you, Sarah. You can move now."

####

Sarah pushed herself away from the wall, her limbs trembling. She felt like she had just woken from a night of heavy drinking. Her lips practically jumped and sizzled from where she had kissed the Goblin King, and her body echoed with the heat of wanting him. _It felt… oh, it felt amazing,_ she thought, though now that she felt sober the memory was laced with fear. _It was like I had no control over it._

He watched her from where he stood, his arms loose at his sides, and she tried not to meet her eyes. _My love_ , he had said to her, his voice like silk. She shivered and clutched her arms to herself. _I must have imagined it. He couldn't have meant…_ she shook her head, banishing that train of thought.

Jareth knelt down to caress one of the white flagstones and rose with a velvet cloak in his arms. He extended it to her. "Take this. You may be in shock."

Sarah moved toward him mechanically and took the offered garment without meeting his eyes. "Thank you," she mumbled. Her hands fumbled as she wrapped the warm cloth around herself, and for the first time, she took a good look at her surroundings. "Where are we?"

Jareth shook his head, his eyes sweeping over the garden. "This was never here before. I believe you created it, with the power of the amulet to guide you."

"Is that what happened?" She reached up to touch the medallion, but Jareth caught her hand, lowering it gently to her side. She jumped at his touch, took a half-step back, and looked up at him. "What are you doing?"

His gaze was long, searching, as though he were trying to read something off of her face. "The amulet is crafted from Fae materials, using Fae techniques and imbued with our magic. It was made in the same instant as the Goblin Kingdom and the Labyrinth itself. It has a mind of its own, but it is able to meld with the mind of its owner—you, in this case."

Sarah reached out and touched a low-hanging wisteria, her fingers trailing over the vibrant purple blossoms. "I made this?"

"The amulet did most of the work but, yes, in a way you did." His expression darkened, "But Fae magic has a price. It's intoxicating, addicting. It gives the user a sense of omnipotence, regardless of their mortality." He motioned at himself, "It is why you acted in the way you did."

She blinked, "So it drugged me?"

"After a fashion."

She let out a long sigh and pulled the cloak tighter around her shoulders, comforted by the feel of it against her bare arms. _Thank the gods,_ she thought, _I was under some spell, I wasn't—I didn't really want that._ But another thought came straight on the heels of the first, _yes you did. You've wanted to know what it would be like to really kiss him since you were a teenager._ The thought of the sketchbook, of the burning duo-colored eyes she had sketched in the margins of her notes for years, rose to the surface of her mind.

 _Oh, for fucks sake, I'm getting_ married.

Sarah took a deep breath, banishing the thoughts, and brought her gaze up to the Goblin Kings, lending him a hesitant smile, "Well then, where to next?"

####

They found several exits leading off of the garden. Once they had chosen one, the Labyrinth showed its dark nature once again, the malevolent presence of Dionysus heavy against Jareth's skin. He looked sidelong at the woman who walked at his side, the medallion giving off a dull, reddish cast as it reflected their surroundings. _She was able to cleanse it,_ he thought, _the Labyrinth let her create something within its walls._ The atmosphere of the garden had been one of serenity, and if he retained the ability to feel the presence of his kingdom in his mind he was sure it would have felt satisfied. Content.

Sarah wore the cloak slung over one shoulder to free her arm in case she needed to draw her dagger. Jareth had retrieved it from the base of the oak tree, where it had snapped off her hip as she squeezed through the narrow portal the trunk had offered. Jareth had taken that moment to inspect the tree. He had felt the presence of the wood nymph that lived within it, but it was sleepy and apparently unaware of the use its home had been put to.

The woman who walked beside him now seemed much different—somehow more _solid—_ compared to how she had appeared when he had first dragged her back into this world. She was careful not to touch the pendant at her throat though he could see that she often desired to do so. He was not sure how long the hold he had placed on it would stay in place and feared that a desperate situation like what they had found themselves in would make the temptation irresistible.

Every piece of Fae lore and history he had read said that a mortal could not channel their magic without serious consequences. Their minds would break, at the very least, but more often than not their weaker bodies would simply be unable to control the vast current rushing through them, and would shut down altogether. Sarah had suffered a kind of magical overload, not uncommon in young Fae first coming into their power, but she still smelled and _felt_ like a mortal woman.

But somehow he thought that she was more than what his senses were telling him. He pressed a leather-clad finger to his lips, tasting the hint of her that remained. _Does she really taste of magic, or was it the amulet?_

They walked through a maze of gently sloping steps, their progress slow as they kept an eye on the pulsating walls around them. A perverted form of eye fungus grew from the cracks and crevices, blood dripping from them like tears to pool on the ground. They side-stepped the puddles when they could, and once Jareth lifted Sarah over one when her stride was too short to accommodate the leap. Neither of them spoke about it, but they silently agreed it would be best not to let the red liquid touch them.

The walls were split with great, wide cracks, and the path they walked, when not drenched with blood, was covered in stone dust. Jareth's eyes rose to the top of the tall walls and saw that the stones were rounded as though they had been worn away from the wind. _This should not have happened so quickly,_ he thought not for the first time. _What game is Dionysus playing? Does he want to be the king of nothing?_

The light began to dim, the sickly red sun sinking into the horizon. Jareth kept an eye on it, his frustration mounting. They had to be faster than this if he hoped to preserve those who had been lost during Dionysus's reign.

"Jareth," Sarah said, stopping short. "What's that?"

Jareth looked to where she pointed and saw a creature, shrouded in mist, reclined on the top of a wide staircase. Its body took up the entire width of the grand landing, its paws folded down in front of it, its wide black eyes reflecting the crimson glow of the dimming sunlight. Jareth felt his breath leave him in a soft sigh, "That is a sphinx."

The creature nodded its head toward him, a curtain of glossy black hair falling over her bare shoulders. She was incredibly large and beautiful. Even Sarah seemed entranced by the mythical creature. Jareth, who had only seen them in paintings and described in books, felt his heart soar. _Here,_ he thought, _finally, something untouched by the usurper._ Sarah stepped forward, her gait hesitant. "Hello," she called to it. "Is this the way to the castle?"

The sphinx smiled, her teeth pearly white and pointed, her voice a low purring growl. "Yes. It is the only way that remains to you."

Jareth stepped up so that he was level with Sarah's shoulder. "May we pass?"

The creature sighed, the sound ending in a loud purr that reverberated in her tawny-gold chest. "First you must answer my riddles three. If your answers are sound, you may pass. If they are not, I will devour you."

Sarah sucked in a breath.

####

The light disappeared entirely. Sarah groped in the darkness, her head swimming. There was the sound of a match striking, and sudden pale light illuminated the space around her. She recognized her surroundings instantly. _How?_ Her mind screamed, _the Sphinx—Jareth—where did they go?_

She was in an oubliette.

"Sarah?"

She turned toward the voice and the source of the light. She squinted against the glare of the candle, and then her eyes widened in shock. "Michael?"

He was kneeling on the floor in front of her, the knees of his trousers coated in dust, his suit jacket torn and a bloody gash above one eye. Sarah went to him, her hand hovering above the injury. Relief at the familiar and fear for his safety warred for dominance in her mind. She tried to smile but found she could not, "What happened to you?"

Michael winced when she touched the clotted wound. "I don't know. I was on my way to the airport and then I was… here. There's only the one candle, and I can't find a way out."

"Don't worry," Sarah said. "I've been here before. There's a door hidden somewhere."

"You've been here before? What do you mean?"

She shook her head, "It's a long story." She took the candle from his hand, her motions gentle, and swept it up in an arc to illuminate more of their surroundings. Michael's fingers closed over hers and Sarah glanced back, smiling at him.

Michael's brown hair was coated with dust and cobwebs, and his dark eyes were wide with panic and shock. Aside from the gash on his forehead, he appeared unharmed. Feeling a rush of affection for him, she pulled him into a quick embrace, reveling in the sense of the familiar.

But then she stilled.

He smelled _wrong_.

When she pulled back, Michael was looking at her with hard beetle-black eyes. Sarah stood and took a step back, looking down at him. "You're not Michael."

Dionysus shed the illusion and rose, almost of a height with her. The candle fell from her suddenly numb fingers, but she saw him wave a hand before its light went out. It was the same lazy gesture he had used to strike her blind when they had first met. The walls began to glow with a sickly red color similar to that which now coated in the Labyrinth, illuminating the small cramped space. He smiled at her, "You're quick on the uptake."

Sarah repressed a shudder at his smile and the sound of his voice, deep and gravely. Her skin felt sticky where she had touched him, and she resisted the urge to wipe her hands on her pants to chase the phantom feeling away. "What do you want?"

"Just a quick chat. Don't worry, Jareth won't notice you've gone. I plan on popping you right back up there as soon as we're done speaking."

She raised her eyebrows. "You can control time?"

Dionysus shrugged and spread his arms. "It is _my_ kingdom."

A sour taste filled her mouth. _Not for long. Not if I have anything to do with it._ "Alright then, you have my attention. What do you want?"

"I know a terrible injustice has befallen you, sweet Sarah. There you were, minding your own business, and who comes knocking on your door?" He leered at her, the scars on his face crinkling. "It was terribly discourteous of Jareth to take you without permission."

Sarah said nothing but crossed her arms over her stomach.

Dionysus narrowed his eyes. "I can see that he has told you tales of me. What has he said? That I am a terrible ruler, an evil that must be stamped out at all cost?" He laughed, "Long have we lived and suffered under the Fae. No more."

Sarah scowled at him, "You forget, I've seen your handiwork first hand. The guardian?" Dionysus said nothing. "The worm," she elaborated, "The wise man, Ludo, Sir Didymus? Do you remember _any_ of them?"

Dionysus tilted his head and gave a small shrug. "It is my kingdom, Sarah. Do you want them restored? I will do that for you, and much more besides. Whatever you desire will be yours in exchange for one, tiny favor."

She paused before she opened her mouth to yell at him, her ire over his nonchalance at the death of her friends filling her with bitter anger. She swallowed and put her hands on her hips, "What do you want?"

The goblin reached into his leather tunic and extracted a short, thin vial, holding it aloft by its wax seal. "Pour this into Jareth's drink, and walk away. That is all I need from you."

Sarah eyed the vial. "What will it do?"

"Oh, it won't hurt him. But it _will_ restore you to your home if that is what you wish. Or," Dionysus tilted his head, regarding her. "A throne of your own? I have yet to take a queen, and you did feel sweet in my arms." Sarah shuddered, and Dionysus shrugged yet again. "I'll take that as a 'no', but the offer stands. The ways in which I could improve your life are endless, and all you need to do is put a little of this into his drink. Then just… walk away, and all you could ever want will be yours."

He held out the vial.

Sarah shook her head, "I've heard these promises before. What you offer me are illusions, and what will you do afterward? Continue to corrupt this place, and slaughter its people?"

He smiled, "I give them free will, my lady. Those who do not wish to change die but," he added, his dark eyes glittering. "As I said, they could all be restored with a word from you. Jareth will fail." His face hardened, " _You_ will fail unless you take this offer. I would hate to see your pretty bones decorating my Labyrinth."

Sarah regarded him for a moment, hesitated, and then plucked the vial from his fingers. The goblin grinned. "I'll take it that means yes?"

Sarah slid the tiny container into a pocket at her hip and studiously ignored his gaze, "I think it's best I get back."

The usurper smiled again, a hideous gleam in his black eyes. "Remember, Sarah, all you need to do is walk away."


	8. Spells and Shadows

A/N: Hello lovelies!

I am preening from the reviews. I hope this chapter brings me more. I love reviews, they make my fingers turbo-fast as I write the story. Keep that in mind. I really enjoy updating on the daily, but I'm only one chapter ahead of the posted content at this point!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or its characters, and I do not profit from this story in any way.

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 **Chapter Eight**

 **'Spells and Shadows'**

"First you must answer my riddles three. If your answers are sound, you may pass. If they are not, I will devour you."

Sarah blinked. She was back, Jareth standing at her side. The oubliette had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and Dionysus was nowhere in sight. The Sphinx seemed to eye her and for a brief, frightened moment Sarah was afraid that the creature knew what had transpired, but then the moment passed.

Jareth gave a shallow nod toward the sphinx. "I accept your terms."

The sphinx gave a low rumble of approval and turned her dark gaze on Sarah, "And you? For both must play if both shall pass."

Sarah gave a terse nod, a hard lump in her throat. Her fingers twitched toward the pocket that held the vial, which felt like a hot brand against her skin.

The sphinx settled into her position, long lion legs extending outward toward them, the claws visible for a moment and then retracting as she stretched. Each of her massive paws was almost as large across as a car door. Sarah swallowed hard, and the sphinx spoke.

" _The person who makes me has no need for me_

 _The person who purchases me does not use me_

 _The person who does use me does not know they are_

 _What am I?_ "

Sarah felt a pain at her temples. _I hate riddles_ , she thought, _it would have been simpler if we could just fight our way past her._ But as she looked up at the Sphinx, gooseflesh rose up her arms and down her spine. Though it had the face of a smiling woman, there was a predatory glint in the creature's eyes, a hunger in the set of its mouth. Its body was tense as though ready to spring upon them, ropes of muscles bunched under its gleaming sand-colored fur. Sarah shivered. _I take that back..._

Jareth, meanwhile, smiled. "A coffin."

The sphinx inclined her head toward him, a smile on her wide lips. "Correct."

" _I am the forked tongue_

 _The whispered phrase_

 _A breath that flies_

 _I crumble kingdoms_

 _Yet I take no lives_

 _What am I?"_

Sarah looked over at Jareth, eyes wide. She was afraid to say anything, afraid that it could be misinterpreted as an answer. _Gods, I have no_ idea, she thought frantically. But Jareth was still smiling, and he tilted his head toward the sphinx, "Lies."

The sphinx frowned a little and shifted her broad shoulders. Her tail flicked. "Correct. Once more, and the female must answer if she too is to pass."

" _I mirror the moon, the sun, and all you see_

 _I am light as a feather,_

 _But a thousand strong men could not hold me_

 _What am I?"_

Sarah glanced at Jareth. His eyes seemed to shift toward her though he still faced the creature atop the steps. Sarah thought desperately for a few moments and then smiled. For the first time since the oubliette and her return to the Goblin Kings side, she felt a sense of elation. Facing the Sphinx, she answered before she could give voice to any of the doubts that were screaming through her mind. "A bubble."

The sphinx curled its lip, and its gaze fell. "You are correct."

Sarah turned to Jareth, grinning. She checked the mad impulse to wrap him in a hug, taking a step back from him instead and smoothing her hand through her hair. "At least I got one of them."

His lips twitched at the corners. "I believed you would." He looked down at his hand, and Sarah followed his gaze. His sword was halfway out of its sheath. Their eyes met again, and they shared a conspiratorial grin.

The sphinx gave a sigh, and Sarah's attention turned back to the creature. "Your path is clear, travelers. And… I believe this is yours."

The sphinx lifted one of its massive back paws. Beneath it was a perfectly round crystal. It quivered where it sat, and then rolled toward the stairs, bouncing at each step. Jareth caught it, his eyes gleaming as he supported it on his fingertips. "At last," he murmured.

Sarah felt a trickle of sudden cold wash over her. Holding the crystal, his gaze intent on its depths, Jareth looked like nothing more than the nightmare that had plagued her subconscious for years. Here was the villain she remembered, that vague shadowy form that had seemed to scream menace from the corner of every nightmare.

 _I have to remember, nothing is as it seems in this place._ The odd comfort she had felt at his presence, and that rush of fierce desire when she was in the grips of the medallions power seemed to burn away. _It could all be a lie. He proved himself to be a manipulator before, and he's probably just the same now._

She reached down and touched the outline of the vial.

####

Jareth rolled the crystal along his hands that night, his gaze intent on its depths. The crystal allowed him to see whatever he desired, wherever it might be, in or out of the Labyrinth. Eventually, as they became reacquainted with each other, it would allow him to transport anywhere he wished, and craft complicated illusions.

With the crystal, Jareth would have a distinct advantage over Dionysus, who was now deprived of its power. _Just as he's deprived of the medallion, and its power to shape the Labyrinth to its masters wishes._ Again he wondered if the Labyrinth had put that in their path first on purpose, _perhaps to save itself?_ The miasma had not appeared that night, and the silent Labyrinth seemed to breathe out a sigh of relief, the night more comforting than it had been before. _Sarah is changing things_ , he thought. No matter how he had locked away the bulk of the amulet's power, it still pulled through her, gentler now.

They had set up camp for the night. The burgundy moon, surrounded by red and yellow stars, seemed to have a strange effect on Sarah. She could not stop looking up, and whenever she did she shivered a little more, her fingers white as she clutched the cloak around her shoulders. Jareth had cleared an area to set up their pavilion when her teeth began to chatter, and now Sarah was on her side of the tent. He raised the temperature inside until she had stopped shivering, and now the sound and smell of cooking wafting over, just as tantalizing as the woman who created it.

He conjured the image of her within the crystal's depths, just as he had for almost thirteen straight years between their last meeting and this. Her hair was tied back and she moved around the crafted kitchen with ease. He smiled at her easy manner, her face a mask of blank concentration, and then willed the image away.

She had insisted on cooking dinner herself. "I'm learning how to do this professionally," she had explained. "You can't do anything right unless you practice it often, so, at least, this once I want to make something instead of having you conjure it out of nowhere."

Jareth had acquiesced without too much of a fight, transmuting the ingredients she required and then returning to his side of the pavilion. He was absorbed in the renewed power he felt coursing through him. After the events in the woods the night before, when the initial shock had worn off, he had felt a tinge of bitterness that Sarah had won the amulet.

Though a powerful Fae on his own accord, Jareth had few abilities within the Labyrinth without the artifacts to anchor him, and even one was enough to make renewed strength flow through his limbs. He welcomed it, especially after the strain he had undergone to protect Sarah from the medallion's more dangerous magic. He felt a little more like his old self.

Sarah called to him from the other side of the cloth partition. "Dinner's ready, come and get it."

Jareth rose and made the crystal disappear, following the sound of Sarah's voice. She set down a platter of braised root vegetables as he came around the partition, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Jareth had recreated the kitchen from her fiancé's home, and a low table with plush cushions hugged the floor. Sarah lowered herself to one of the poufs and began to pile her plate with food.

He took a cushion across from her and began to fill his own plate. While he was not required to eat as often as a human, he knew it would be the height of bad manners to dismiss the dinner that she had gone to such lengths to prepare.

"I don't know about you," Sarah said. "But I don't think I've ever been so hungry."

Jareth smiled at her and took a bite of the lobster risotto. "Running, fighting, and channeling large amounts of Fae magic will do that to a person."

She smiled, folding her legs crossways. She had changed out of her traveling outfit into loose-fitting brown pants and a thin white t-shirt. He focused on the food. "This is delicious."

She preened visibly. "Thank you. I made the cider as well. Thank you for the apple press."

He shrugged and reached for the cup, "It was no problem, once I realized what you were asking for." The cider was crisp and tart, a nice counterbalance to the rich creaminess of the risotto. Jareth drained half the cup before setting it back on the table. "You have a talent for this."

"Thanks. My father and step-mother were never much for cooking, but once I was living on my own, I realized how cost prohibitive it is to eat out all the time." She motioned at the table, "Of course, I wouldn't have bought lobster back in the early days. I was vegetarian by necessity—meat is expensive up there." Sarah frowned, "Is my world really above yours?"

Jareth shrugged, not caring how her conversation meandered. _She's talking to me. Freely, willingly_. He smiled, "In a way. Mortals first accessed Faerie through tunnels and caves cut into the side of mountains and hills. But it is more accurate to say that we are in a different place entirely. Faerie would not fit under your planet."

Sarah raised her eyebrows, "Faerie?"

Jareth nodded and cut into one of the braised beets, its juices red like blood against the soft cream of the China. "The goblin realm is one of the outlying kingdoms, there are many and more besides this one. I chose to pursue the horned throne three hundred years ago when its current ruler was killed in a duel, leaving no apparent heirs."

"Huh," Sarah said and seemed to shiver again. He frowned, for the tent was quite warm by his standards, even for someone dressed such as her. She brandished her fork at him, "Are you telling me you're a king by, what, decree? I thought royalty were born into it."

Jareth nodded, "I was, after a fashion. I was born in the court of the Summerland, under the guardianship of the high king and queen." He shrugged, "I am not in line to the high throne, and I had to fight to win the goblin kingdom." _Just as I have to fight again._

Sarah trembled again and set down her fork, pushing her plate away even though she had eaten little of what she had prepared. "It probably doesn't matter anyway. I don't even know why I asked."

He tilted his head but said nothing.

"I mean, when you send me home I won't be coming back here anymore, will I? I'll probably forget all over again."

Pain gripped his heart at those words. _No,_ a part of him called out, _I can't have you leave me again._ The sense of crushing loneliness had almost destroyed him before, had left him vulnerable to attack from the rebellious factions of his kingdom. He could not do that again, but… _but I cannot force her to stay_.

The silence stretched between them, uncomfortable, and Sarah gave a light cough to clear her throat, pulling her legs up so that they pressed against her chest. "So… you have the crystal back. What does it do, anyway? Besides summon the cleaners."

Jareth told her the details of the crystals power, keeping his words as measured and simple as possible, afraid to let any emotion snake into his voice. "Would you like me to show you?" She shivered again, and Jareth frowned. "What's wrong? Are you still cold?"

"No, it's nothing," Sarah said quietly. "I just… I don't know if I like that you have it back. I mean—" she cut in, meeting his gaze with wide eyes, "It's good that we're moving forward, it's just that I remember you using them against me in the past. With the snake, and, well, at the end. When I jumped." Her expression darkened, "And _why_ , Jareth? Why did you do all that? You seem so—" she paused, her brows furrowed as she searched for the words, "You're much more pleasant this time around."

He nodded and said simply, "You're right, I wasn't very pleasant last time." She shook her head, not looking at him, her fork forgotten in her hand. He took a breath, "Sarah, I am—I was—the King of the Goblins. It is a position that comes with great power, but within that power, I am bound to observe certain guidelines, especially when it comes to those who summon me."

Sarah looked up at him and raised her eyebrows.

"When you called, I was able to sense what you wanted, needed—expected. Each challenger is given a Labyrinth based on what _I_ believed would provide the greatest trial." He paused and took another sip of the crisp cider, and when he continued his voice was soft, "Most who wish away children have no intention of retrieving them. _Most_ do not even attempt the Labyrinth, but those who have a change of heart… they must prove that they desire the return of the child above all other obstacles, or whatever threat to their person might rise up against them."

Sarah gave a brief shake of her head, "But I _said_ I needed him back."

Jareth could not help but smile, brief and thin, "Some do, but the rules are the rules." He considered his glass for a moment, tilting the crystal so that the amber liquid caught the light. "The challenges I saw in your mind were based on the fantasies you surrounded yourself in. You _wanted_ a villain. You wanted me to play a heavy hand in your quest, and in my role I… had to. But who you saw, for the most part, was not me." He raised his gaze to hers, "Here, now, _this_ is me."

 _Do you like what you see now, my Sarah? I have tried, always, to please you._

She smiled, her eyes on her plate, and he saw a flush rise along her neck bloom in her cheeks. He had seen this in her before, and he felt his stomach give a sharp tug. Sarah took a breath and looked up at him, "I guess that does make some sense, however convoluted. I… I guess that is what I wanted." She frowned and pointed her utensil at him again, "But don't you _dare_ say everything you did you did for me. That's just… ludicrous."

He tilted his head toward her in concession, "As you wish."

She flashed him a quick smile and set down her fork, "Anyway, you said that you're able to look at whatever you desire through the crystal, no matter where in the worlds it is?"

"Yes."

"Can you—would you show me Michael? I just want to make sure that he's okay." She seemed to tremble again, "His trip is supposed to take a week, but I just have this feeling that maybe Dionysus could have… done something."

Jareth nodded and conjured a crystal, rolling it toward her across the low wooden table. Sarah took it, and the sphere seemed to vibrate in her hands. She peered at it but frowned. "I don't see anything."

He smiled at her, "You have to turn it a certain way, Sarah, don't you remember?"

She rolled the crystal around her palm, and her eyes began to widen. Jareth could only just see the movements within the heart of the sphere, but the tiny voices that rose out of it were easier to understand.

A woman gave a high, delighted squeal, and a lower masculine chuckle accompanied it. Sarah's cheeks reddened, and her eyes sparked with anger, fever bright.

 _"I bet your fiancé doesn't do_ that. _"_

 _"You'd be right."_

 _"I don't understand why you have to marry that frigid bitch. Why can't you move here?" She whined, "We could do this whenever we liked."_

 _Michael chuckled. "As much as I would love to, my dear, my family thinks_ she's _the right kind of woman for me, and if I ever want to take over my father's company I need to toe the line. For now. When the old man dies, we can be together."_

Sarah dropped the crystal, and it rolled away across the carpeted floor. Jareth lowered his hand and it flew back to his fingertips. He looked into the depths, keeping the sound from Sarah's ears, and confirmed his suspicions. The hotel room was plain but well-appointed, and the mortal man Michael was spread on its bed, the covers wrinkled and pushed aside. He was naked, his arm curled around the shoulders of a similarly unclothed woman with caramel skin and a wash of blonde hair. The woman trailed a hand down Michael's stomach, her giggles reaching Jareth's ears before he shut the connection.

He felt sickened, his stomach a roiling mass of fury. Sarah was the perfect woman. The human was a fool. Jareth glanced up at his companion and was shocked to see that she was glaring at him, her eyes glittering.

"That was a trick, wasn't it? That wasn't real."

Jareth felt his mouth part, and he stared at her in disbelief. "I would not do that to you."

Sarah shook her head and roughly wiped at the corners of her eyes with her palms. Her hands were trembling. "He wouldn't do that," she whispered, staring down at the hands now folded in her lap. "I mean, he…" she stopped, her lips curling, and a fresh tear rolled down her cheek. Her face blanched, "Oh, _gods_. My father was his father's lawyer. That's how we met, arranged the roommate situation and…" she covered her face with her hands, her voice muffled. Jareth could only make out a few words of the words she spoke. "Business trip… he smelled like… oh, gods… I done?"

He rose, intending to comfort her, but Sarah suddenly jerked her head up, hand out. "Stop," she said. "Don't. Please don't." She took a deep, shaking breath. "Just tell me, honestly. Was that real?"

Jareth gave her a hard nod. "I'm afraid so."

Her body seemed to spasm again, and Jareth narrowed his eyes, taking a step forward. "Sarah?"

She swallowed hard, her eyes fever-bright and blazing like emeralds, her cheeks flushed. "I don't feel well," she whispered her voice quavering. Her body bowed suddenly, and her eyes rolled back into her head. She slipped to the side, but Jareth caught her, his movements supernaturally quick. She seized in his arms, and he held her as tight as he could, curling his own body around hers as though he could protect her.

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 **A/N:** Sigh.

This was a difficult chapter to write, as was the one that will follow tomorrow. I am a writer firmly in the camp of, "Whatever can go wrong should go wrong." That being said, I desperately wish I was able to just toss those two at each other and be done with it... sometimes.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and, as always, if you liked what you saw here **please review** _ **.**_

 _ **Thank you, lovelies, and have a wonderful day. TGIF!**_


	9. The Fire Within

**A/N:** Hello lovelies!

Main authors note below. As always, please **read and review**.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or its characters, and I do not profit from this story in any way.

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 **Chapter Nine**

 **'The Fire Within'**

 _It's so cold_ , Sarah thought, her mind reeling. _Why is it so cold?_

She could barely feel her body. It was as though all her limbs had gone to sleep, the only indication that they remained the sensation of a thousand needles running over her skin. She shivered violently and tried to open her eyes, but they would not obey her commands. Fear spiked through her, sharp and fierce, which only made the trembling grow worse.

Distantly, she heard someone calling her name.

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Jareth laid Sarah out on his camp bed and placed the back of his hand against her forehead. She was terribly cold, her skin damp to the touch. Her eyes moved restlessly beneath closed lids, and while her lips moved, no sound came out. "Sarah," Jareth called to her. "Sarah, wake up, please."

He had to bite back a scream of frustration. He did not know what was wrong with her. The healers that used to be at his beck and call now belonged to the bastard usurper and were beyond Jareth's ability to summon. He was not at all familiar with a mortal sickness, but…

Jareth was sure that whatever afflicted her was from this world, not her own. Something had happened. She was a stubborn woman who coveted her secrets and hid her true feelings from the world. He had witnessed this first hand when she had been under the control of the medallion when the Fae magic coursing through her carried her desires up to the surface. Once she had been out from under its influence, she had kept her interest in him under lock and key, just as she had from the very beginning. _But I know you desire me now, my love,_ he thought, _a part of you remembered me, after all._

These thoughts ran through his head in an instant as he looked down at her still, cold form. Her breath was shallow, her chest rising with difficulty, but he could feel a certain awareness coming off of her. She might be able to hear him, or feel him, and he had to try whatever he could to get her back.

The silence of the pavilion pressed against him like a physical force, and he took a deep breath, trying to ignore the hard knot in his stomach and the trembling in his fingers. He knelt beside the bed and took one of her hands in both of his. He began to massage the fingers, pushing against the palm in slow, rhythmic movements. "Sarah," he called to her, his voice steady. He repeated her name as he moved his hands up her arm, her skin warming as he massaged circulation back into them.

Her lips parted when he was at her shoulder, and when he began to touch her face with his gloved hands, her eyelids fluttered open. She looked at him with half-closed eyes, and her tongue flicked out to wet her dry lips. Her mouth worked silently for a few moments before she was able to ask aloud, "What's happening?"

Jareth did not stop the movement of his hands on her. He ran his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp and temples, pressing down where he felt any tension. She let out a sigh, and he spoke, "I believe you've been poisoned, but I cannot be sure. Did anything happen to you that you haven't told me about?"

Her eyes shut hard, and a tear fell down her cheek to moisten her hair. "Dionysus," she whispered. "Gave me… a vial." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Hurts."

Jareth withdrew his hands, his eyes searching the floor for her cast-off clothes. Sarah gave a little cry of alarm, and her eyes opened again, "Don't," she gasped. "I didn't open it, I just… touched it."

He smoothed a hand over her forehead, "Hush, now. I need to retrieve this vial, to see if I know what it is. I'll be careful."

Sarah started to say something, but Jareth stood and strode to her side of the tent, searching for the black pants she had been wearing earlier. He spotted them slung over the wooden partition for Sarah's bathing area and thickened the protection on his gloves, reaching out to search the pockets.

The vial was small and, when he held it up to the light, dusted with a glittering powder. He could see the clear spots where her fingertips had wiped it away. Jareth brought it close to his face, careful not to inhale any of the substance, and his eyes widened. He dropped the vial and summoned a fire to consume it and the gloves he had worn while handling it, walking away as the magical blaze burned itself out. He returned to Sarah's side, kneeling down on the rugs at the side of his bed, pulling on a pair of soft linen gloves before he reached out for her.

Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her breathing was labored. "Sarah," he called to her and took her hand to massage the now-cold fingers. "Sarah, look at me. I need you to stay awake now."

Her head rolled listlessly toward his voice, and he could only just make out the glitter of her eyes through closed lashes. His heart was pounding, and he swallowed past the sudden dryness in his throat. He leaned over her until his face and hers were only inches away. His hair fell like a curtain over them, locking them together. Sarah's eyes opened further, and he felt her hand reach up and curl around his arm, the touch feather-light. "What are you doing?" She murmured, voice sleepy and pain-filled.

Jareth lowered himself and brushed his lips against her forehead, pulling away before the movement became a kiss. He had promised her. "Listen to me, Sarah. You've been poisoned. _Amaranthium-Elixis_. There are two ways I can help you." He touched her cheek, and her eyes opened fractionally further. "Are you listening?"

She gave a slight nod and licked her lips. "Yes."

"I can give you a potion as I did after your fight with the _Lupe_. It will hurt, worse than the pain you are feeling now, and may not work. If we had known sooner, it would have been a sure thing but now…" He swallowed again, "It's been hours. The poison is all through your body. It will be a long night, and the pain will be constant."

Another tear fell from her eyes, and Jareth felt as though a great hand squeezed his chest at the sight. She gave another little nod, "Second option?"

He raised a hand so she could see it. "The second option is that I bond you to me."

A frown curled her lips. "What?"

Jareth shook his head slightly. "A Fae bonds with his or her mate forever—and we live a very long time. I have yet to do this. If I touch your bare hand with mine, we will be bonded. The process will chase the poison from your body and restore you, without pain and without the possibility of failure."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Jareth, no, I can't."

His heart gave a painful lurch, but he managed to keep his face calm, cool. "Are you sure?"

Sarah shook her head, "I can't. I can't."

Jareth nodded and withdrew, reaching for the flask that he kept in an inside pocket of his vest. He repeated the motions he had used on the night when she had been bleeding on the ground in the forest, and tipped the concoction into his mouth, holding it there until he felt the fluid warm against his tongue.

He moved to lean over her again, to give her the potion as he had before, but her hand tightened on his arm. Her cheeks were streaked with newly shed tears. "I need to tell you, just in case… the reason I had trouble accepting Michael's proposal and… others I was with…" She took a deep, rattling breath, and her gaze fixed on his. "I think I found someone I really wanted a long time ago."

Her fingers reached up and grazed his chest, the touch like an electric current that wrapped around his beating heart. Jareth cupped her hand in his own, then leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, passing her the potion that could save her, or condemn her last hours into mindless pain.

####

Sarah could barely breathe through the agony that assaulted every inch of her body. Before, the sensation had been a brief flash, like an alcohol fire, but now it raged and licked through her until she felt like a hollow shell for the fire inside.

She could not speak, could not feel anything but pain. Hour by hour it burned in her, and she felt her body respond to it, lifting off the bed and contorting with spasms. Sometimes, distantly, she thought she could hear him call her name, and she clung to the echoes of his voice like a frayed rope that could haul her out of this hellish inferno.

It was an eternity. _There's no way I survive this_ , she thought desperately, haltingly. She had experienced nightmares like this, but they had lasted only seconds compared to this unendurable agony.

She could feel her consciousness leaving the pain behind, turning away from her body and its miseries. Something beckoned her with cool and calm, almost like a melody snaking through her mind to calm the last of the fires. She moved toward it happily, but the moment she touched the edges of that sanctuary she recoiled in horror, sudden understanding throwing her back into the fires.

 _Death is not painful after all. Just the opposite._

Sarah could hear Jareth calling to her. She could not abandon him. She could not abandon the people of the Labyrinth and all her friends who counted on her to make the kingdom safe again. She tensed against the return of the pain and lost herself completely.

Surely her body was nothing but ash. Surely her organs were burned into black charcoal lumps. Surely there was nothing left to take, nothing left for the fire to feed on…

But it raged, and raged, and raged…

Slowly, inch by inch, she felt the pain lesson. First she could feel Jareth's hands on her, the smooth fabric of his gloves sliding over her bare skin, pressing and massaging. His voice was low and sweet, his words like the caress of fur and silk and moonlight.

She raised her hand, and she felt their fingers lace together, and then the smooth, angular features of the Goblin Kings cheek against her palm. She felt his lips rise in a smile but was still pained enough that she could not answer with one of her own.

She remembered her last words to him before the pain had come. _I had to tell him_ , she thought, _I could not have died without him knowing_. She had barely realized it herself until her anger over Michael had pushed that barrier aside. _Of course, it was Jareth… it has always been him._

Sarah sighed and opened her eyes. The light, even dimmed, was bright enough that she had to shut them again, a spike of pain lancing through her temples at the sudden glare.

His fingers caressed her cheek, and some of the last vestiges of the fire faded at his touch. She rolled her cheek against his palm and opened her eyes again, slower so as to give herself time to adjust.

Jareth was gazing at her, his hand holding hers to his face, and she noticed that he looked exhausted. There was a dark tint to the thin skin under his eyes, and his hair appeared even more disheveled than usual. He leaned in, "How do you feel?"

Sarah groaned and lifted her free hand to her forehead. "Awful. Tired."

Jareth smiled and removed his hands from hers. Her skin felt almost too cool without his warmth against her. "The potion worked," he said, a depth of emotion in those few, simple words. Sarah tried to smile at him but found that her face ached.

He helped her sit up on the bed. It was only then that she realized that she was no longer on a narrow cot. This one was large, plush, and complete with headboard. She blinked and looked around. "You did a little redecorating."

He gave a slight nod, "You've been fighting off the poison for almost eight hours. I thought you would be more comfortable this way."

She did not say that she had had no concept of her surroundings, that the pain and the feeling of fire roaring through her had taken up all of her senses. She could see a tightness around his eyes that belied his casual word. "Thank you," she said simply. "This is nice."

Jareth handed her a cup of warm liquid, "You're through the worst of it now. You'll need sleep, real sleep, and you may feel a little weaker than usual when you wake, but you're going to be fine."

He helped her raise the cup to her lips and warm broth slid down her throat; soothing the soreness she could still feel there. She curled her fingers around the cup and drank deep, then handed it back to Jareth. "Thank you."

He nodded, setting the cup down on one of the ornate carpets before he looked over at her. "Sarah, I need you to tell me what happened. How did you get that vial?"

Sarah closed her eyes, a sharp pain flitting through her temples. She reached out with one hand and Jareth's closed over hers. He gave her fingers a soft squeeze. She took a deep breath and repeated the encounter in the oubliette as well as she could remember, leaving out nothing in the retelling. When she finished, Jareth's gaze was on the outer wall of the pavilion, his jaw clenched, a vein pulsing at his temple. His fingers remained around hers, the pressure and warmth light, comforting. Sarah found herself stifling a yawn. The lights dimmed further.

Jareth looked over at her, and his eyes softened. "You should rest."

Sarah nodded and slid down the headboard until her head was softly embraced by one of the feather pillows. Jareth began to pull away and she tightened her grip, not looking at him. She opened her eyes, his blurry shape coming into sharp focus against the dim lights. "Stay, please?"

Jareth went still for a moment and then gave a sharp nod.

####

The lights dimmed to almost nothing. The bed was large enough to accommodate them both comfortably. Jareth slid into the space beside her, shifting his clothing as he did, encasing his hands with gloves that were buckled in place so that he would not remove them in his sleep.

Though the sickness had lent its own sour taste to the air, the bed enveloped him in the comforting smell of her. He lay far enough away that she would not feel crowded, and felt his body tense when she closed the distance between them, resting her head on the pillow beside his.

She was almost feverishly warm, and he felt his own body reacting to her proximity. _She's only ill,_ he thought, _she just wants the comfort of another body._ But he remembered her words, he had repeated them to himself through the hours of torment as he watched, helpless, while she battled the poison.

There had been a moment there, for a brief few minutes, when he had thought she was surely going to perish. When she rallied, he could not help but sag against the bed, her hands clasped in his own, and send up a prayer to all of the gods in gratitude for her life. Her screams had been the worst to endure, and he had clutched her body to him as she cried out in defiance of the poison that had tried to claim her life.

He shut his eyes against the memory. _She is here,_ he told himself, _she will live._

Sarah reached out and traced one of the clasps on his gloves, "Do you always sleep in these?"

Jareth shook his head, the motion turning him to face her. He hesitated for a moment and then slid his hand down her arm to her waist, where it stopped, resting just before the curve of her hip. "The other night, when we slept on either side of the cloth wall, I had taken off my gloves in my sleep."

Her voice was small, heavy with fatigue. "Oh."

He smiled in the darkness that fell over them, then leaned forward and brushed his lips against her forehead again. She stirred against him and slid closer, the curve of their bodies touching feather light. The hand that had been resting on her waist slid to her back. He pulled her closer to him and breathed in her scent, intoxicating at such close proximity. _Damn the consequences,_ he thought savagely, _I do not know when I may do this again_.

She murmured something in her almost unconscious state, but he didn't catch it. "What's that, Sarah?"

Her hand, resting against his chest, tightened on the fabric of his shirt, and her voice, thick with sleep, faded as she spoke until it was the softest of whispers. "If you had bonded with me, you'd have had to watch me grow old and die."

Jareth's arm tightened around her. _If I could have you for only a mortal lifetime, it would be enough._

She had fallen asleep and likely had not registered her own words. He nuzzled her silken hair, thick with the scent of her—almonds, flowers, and something else… something that made him pause. It was wild and heady, reminiscent of long rides in the forests of his youth, of the wild magic that roamed there. _Of course,_ he thought, startled that it had taken him this long to realize it, _the poison..._

His heart gave a sudden leap, _she's not human._

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 **A/N:** I have been so obsessed in my search for all things Labyrinth that all of my internet ads are filled with 'Labyrinth' themed merchandise. I think that's when you know you have a problem. Also, my family is about fed up with me going, "So I read about this theory on 'Labyrinth'…" but thankfully they're a forgiving lot. They know I just need to get this out of my system.

As always **please review** ** _._** I love my reviews. They keep me going in this _sad, horribly lonely old world_ (that was sarcasm). But, seriously, they do me a world of good. It is part of what I love about writing fanfiction—instant reviews and opinions.

While I'm enjoying the hell out of writing this story, I also want to know if you're enjoying the hell out of reading it.

And…

Hey, did you **review** yet?

;)


	10. Then and Now

**A/N:** Hello to the beautiful people!

Please **read and review.** Main authors note below.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or its characters, and I do not profit from this story in any way.

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 **Chapter Ten**

 **'Then and Now'**

Moira prodded the liquid surface of the scrying mirror, her scarred face troubled. "I was right. The Fae loves her."

Dionysus aimed a casual backhanded slap at the female goblin. She deflected easy enough, but her eyes narrowed. The usurper stood and peered into the watery depths that showed the sleeping form of Jareth and Sarah. He ground his flat teeth together and slammed a fist on the table, causing the image to ripple and vanish momentarily.

"We could always try it my way, darling," Moira purred. "Stop interfering. Let them consummate their _love_ ," she spat the word. "And then, when it comes time to duel, we will stand together against them."

Dionysus growled and cast his eyes around the throne room of the castle. "Our benefactor assured us that the poison would work, and now we discover that she is _Fae_?" He scowled, "None of this is going to plan."

Moira stroked the sword swung low on her wide hips, the touch loving, almost erotic in the way the fingers played against the silver metal. "I've killed Fae before, lover mine. They don't die easily, but they do die." She laughed a little, the sound hard and feral. "A new Fae will pose no real challenge. I'll kill her quickly and stab Jareth in the back myself."

The usurper gave a little laugh and turned to his concubine, grasping her arm and pulling her toward him to deliver a quick, bruising kiss. His fingers squeezed the arm he held until she shuddered, her eyes darkening with the waves of pain and pleasure. "Two more moon falls and we will be their equal."

Moira grasped his topknot and pulled until Dionysus' head twisted back and a new growl rose from his throat. She dug her nails into his scalp and considered him for a long moment, "A Fae with the heart of a goblin? I'm just dying to find out how far I'll be able to push."

They fell on each other, snarling, and the throne room in the castle beyond the city echoed with the sounds of battle and pleasure.

####

Sarah did not have dreams, but her sleep was filled with an overwhelming sense of warmth and comfort. She woke slowly, her body aching from last night's incident, and pressed herself against the one who held her. His arms were strong but gentle, wrapped around her. She breathed in the scent of him and felt her shoulders and limbs relax. No one had ever smelled this good, a loamy, earthy scent tinted with exotic spices. It was enough to make her head spin.

Jareth's breathing was deep and even, and she took a moment to study him. _Those eyes_ , she thought, _I drew them, didn't I?_ Each one she had crumpled and thrown away, unaware of why they haunted her thoughts so much. _It all makes sense now. The Labyrinth was supposed to make me forget, but it couldn't take everything. It couldn't take him._

She took the opportunity to explore a little more of him. She had been so frightened to touch him before, afraid of what that would mean for herself and the life she had led back in her world. She had been tied to Michael through a promise—one that she now knew he intended to break. She could feel the threads that bound her desire for the Goblin King fray and begin to slip away.

Jareth's skin was smooth, his lean muscles little valleys and hills wherever she ran her fingertips. She touched him lightly, afraid to wake him. She traced the curve of his collarbone, the sharp edge of his jaw, and the high, hard cheekbones of his face. She ran her fingers through a clump of his soft silvery-blond hair and let it fall back against his neck.

She stared at his sleeping face for a long time. Last night she had told him the truth, the moment before he had shared the potion with her. She touched her own lips in remembrance of his. _What will he think of me now_ , she wondered, _will he think that I've been pining away for him all these years?_

Sarah had not, not really. Sometimes her dreams and nightmares had starred a dark, sinister force that she could not focus on. Sometimes that dream presence had been fascinating, mysterious and lovely, and she had tried to grasp it—but it had always been just out of her reach. When she had woken, there was always a sense of profound loss, a feeling that she carried with her long after the dream had faded from memory.

She had felt it ever since she was a teenager—that there was a part of her missing. It was not until she had grown and began to date that she realized where the missing piece lay. No matter how romantic, how beautiful, and how persuasive her partners were, she had felt nothing much for them beyond affection.

Now, however, she could feel something stirring in her, something long denied. It had begun the moment she had remembered the Goblin King, and grown steadily within two short days. She reached out and laid her palm on his chest, the beat of his heart steady under her fingertips. She pressed her other hand to her own chest. Their hearts beat in tandem, each thrum echoing in the hands laid atop them. _Do I love him? Is this what it feels like?_ She did not know, for she knew she had never experienced it before.

Jareth woke, his mismatched eyes suddenly focused on her. She could see his gaze move over her face, drinking in her features. The arm around her waist tightened, his gloved hand spread over her lower back. Sarah shivered, but this time, she knew it was not from cold or the poison that had taken over her system. It was him. _It has always been him._

He moved his hand until it rested over hers, his long fingers pressing into the skin of her chest. She could feel his pulse in those fingertips, and her stomach fluttered, heat rising to her cheeks. Jareth smiled, his sharp teeth bared in a flash.

Sarah's heart sped and the connection between them suddenly broke, his own pulse slow and steady while hers became rapid. She pulled away, her body flushed with warmth, and sat up, the spell shattered. She looked down at the Goblin King, his head pillowed on the soft cushions. "Good morning."

His eyes traveled upward, where the rays of the sun barely penetrated the thick canvas of the tent. "I believe it is afternoon." He stretched, cat-like, and his clothing rippled over him like water, changing as she watched. His new outfit was royal blue and black, with a ruffled white poet shirt to offset the dark colors. It looked like what she had seen him in when they had danced together all those years ago.

Sarah looked away, her chest contracting painfully. _I'm being ridiculous_ , she chided herself. _As soon as I go back home, I'll forget all about this place, and him, again._ She closed her eyes against the sudden sting of tears and took a deep breath, steadying herself. _I have to focus on the here and now_.

She stood up and walked over to her side of the tent, noting as she did so that there was a small circular burn in the carpet near her bathing area. She frowned at this but passed it by, going to the tall wardrobe Jareth had provided her with. Within she found jeans and a short-sleeved shirt that felt familiar, comforting. She dressed behind the screen, her movements quick, and ran a boar-bristle brush through the tangles in her hair. Her limbs shook minutely, and she could feel that her body was still weakened from the poison and the terrible cure.

Sarah could hear the Goblin King move on the other end of the pavilion, and the smell of buttered toast reached her nose. She smiled to herself and then turned to study her reflection in the antique mirror Jareth had thoughtfully provided. Her eyes were incredibly bright, shining like sea glass in a face too pale, too white. She jumped, startled by her own visage. _When did this happen?_

"Jareth?" Sarah called, returning to his side of the pavilion, "Something's happened."

He looked up at her, his gaze searching. "What is it?"

She motioned at her face, "My eyes. My skin. I was just looking in the mirror and—" she blew out a frustrated breath. "Well, you should know! What's happening? Is this because of the poison?"

Jareth went to her side, his movements graceful, and cupped her elbow in a leather-gloved hand. He smoothed her hair back with the other, the motion gentle. "I honestly do not know, but I have some things I would discuss with you. Please," he motioned toward his table, a much more elaborate affair than her own, with intricately carved legs and heavy cushioned chairs. "You need to eat."

####

Jareth could practically feel the fear and confusion coming off of her in waves. He gently guided her to a chair and pushed a plate of fruit and toast in front of her, then pulled his own chair closer so they sat near, their legs almost touching. He conjured a cup of tea for himself and coffee for her and waited until she had eaten most of the food before he began.

Sarah lifted her eyes to him, taking a sip of her creamed and sugared beverage, her gaze questioning. Her hand rested on the table between them and he took it, thankful when she again twined her fingers in his, the soft pressure reassuring. _Perhaps this time…_ he thought mournfully before he pushed the thought from his mind.

He began with what he knew of Fae lore, explaining their complicated relationship with the humans that often stumbled into the Underground. "It is where many of your own legends arise. King Arthur's Excalibur was a Fae artifact. The tales of half-immortal creatures like the Greek's Heracles, and other such tales are those touched by our magic. In most of them, the human aided by Fae magic dies tragically, in a way that is mythologized by humans.

"Your ability to channel the magic of the medallion without dying was one of the first indications that there may be more to you than meets the eye, and certainly the most leading. I believe that Dionysus has come to the same conclusion, which is why he tried to poison you with _Amaranthium-Elixis._ " He took a deep breath and squeezed her fingers gently, "That poison does not work on humans."

Sarah swallowed hard, her lips parted. "But that doesn't make any sense. My mother and father are human. Toby is human." Her eyes widened, "Are they human? Is _he_?"

"When I had Toby in my domain I spent a great deal of time with him. He is human." He saw her frown and continued, "But I believe you are not."

She took a deep breath, "Then what am I?"

He shrugged. "I do not know, but the most likely explanation is that you are a changeling. It used to be a common practice among the Fae to switch their children with mortal babies. It was considered proper for a Fae to grow up among the mortals, to better understand them, in the days when humans entered our kingdoms often. That and Queen Titania has a soft spot for human children." He shook his head, and then waved a hand at their surroundings, "This has not been the case for many centuries, but some of the old families keep to the tradition."

Sarah looked down at their fingers, his black-clad ones a sharp contrast to hers. "But if that's the case, wouldn't I have known about it before now? Wouldn't it have… I don't know, manifested? There's been nothing. I've lived as a human for twenty-eight years."

Jareth nodded and caressed her skin with his thumb, moving in slow circles. "I don't know why you haven't felt or had manifestations before now, but realize that the Labyrinth _is_ magic. You're steeped in the stuff. The Labyrinth, and the fact that the medallion chose you marked you for its own means you may be manifesting now. You were able to channel an incredible about of power from the medallion, and it affected you like a Fae newly come into her power." He took a deep breath, "In my opinion, you were placed among the humans to be raised." He touched her cheek briefly, "And with all that has happened the magic is changing you, physically."

Her eyes met his. "Doesn't that mean that there's a human down here, the baby of my mom and dad, raised by Fae? What happens to the humans that are taken? And why hasn't my Fae family come to claim me, if I am a changeling?"

Jareth shrugged. "I'm young, so far as Fae go, and do not know if you really are what I suspect. I have met few changelings, and they were powerful enough that I was largely beneath their notice." He gave her fingers a squeeze and released her. He stood and offered her a hand up, and when she took it, he gazed down at her, his throat tight with something stronger than mere desire. "When I regain the throne, I'll find your answers. I give you my promise on that. For now, however, know that I will try my utmost to keep you safe and guide you through these adjustments."

Sarah stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. He was so shocked that for a moment he stood completely still beneath her. They had shared a bed, but she had been sickly and near death, and while his casual touches were accepted now, he did not think that she would be showing him such overt displays of affection. He pulled her closer, tight against him, and leaned down so that his cheek rested against the top of her head.

"Jareth?" She asked, her voice muffled against his vest.

"Yes?"

"How old are you?"

He smiled, "Around six hundred."

She laughed against him and tightened her grip around his waist. "And I thought you were so much older _back_ _then_."

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 **A/N:** The last forty-eight hours have been a whirlwind of activity. While my birthday was Wednesday, the actual party was most of yesterday. After completing a marathon session of writing Friday night (a new record at 8,000 words in one sitting), I managed only 2 ½ hours of sleep before it was time to get up, clean hours, and make tasty things for all the friends to snack on.

And then this morning there was the hangover. Oh, god, was there a hangover…

What I'm getting at is I apologize for the lateness of this upload, but it is here! I am one of the few that uploads a chapter a day, so I don't feel too bad about it coming late but… don't kill me, lovelies!

Thank you to MarieVance, Unnamed Wanderer, MyraValhallah, and Tenjp for reviewing with consistency. I shower you all with love from wherever I am to wherever you are. Thank you to the rest as well! I *heart* my reviews and love to see them.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter and, if you did, please take a moment to write a quick review letting me know! Even if you didn't like it, let me know. Just talk to me.

Cheers!


	11. The Mountains Peak

**A/N:** Hello lovelies!

Because this is one of my shorter chapters, I will be uploading a second one this evening.

That's right. You heard me. Two chapters in one day. Huzzah!

Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing. Chapters nine and ten got seven reviews each within their first 24 hours of publication. I'm skipping for joy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or its characters, and I do not profit from this story in any way.

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 **Chapter Eleven**

 **'The Mountains Peak'**

"There is not much of this day left, and tomorrow night is the full moon," Jareth told Sarah as they struck camp. "We've made progress, but there is one artifact that remains—the feather." _And that I have to seduce you_ , he thought bitterly. He tightened his hands into fists at his side, looking at her. She deserved far more than what the circumstances would allow.

Sarah nodded and looked out around them. There were two different paths to choose from, but she found herself drawn to the one that would have been directly behind their pavilion. She went that way, and Jareth followed.

Her legs felt watery, and she quickly drew short of breath until Jareth gently took her hand and slowed her pace. "It's not a race, Sarah. You're still recovering."

She gave a brief nod and smiled at him. "I did run a lot of the way last time."

He smiled back, "We have time."

They traveled, albeit slowly, through the twists and turns presented to them.

Once they passed through an arch in a hedge maze and found themselves in a flat, open space. Heat radiated from the hard-packed white soil beneath their feet, and small, perfectly round black pebbles marked a twisting, zig-zag border toward a free-standing arch visible some five hundred meters away. The path behind them disappeared into an endless flat wasteland and, seeing no other option, Sarah started toward the empty archway.

One of her feet caught a pebble, sending it skittering out of line. Within a foot of the outlined path, it exploded into a little shower of molten lava. A blast of heat like a furnace accompanied this and the other pebbles on the path vibrated intensely for a moment before they stilled.

She yelped and jumped back into Jareth's arms. "That was unexpected," she said after a moment, her heart pounding.

The Goblin King let out a low chuckle, but they remained sober as they carefully navigated the thinly marked pathway presented them. Heat seared their bare skin, and the ground seemed to shimmer in the light of the sun, making the outline of black stones seem to ripple like they were underwater. It was slow going without walls to guide their way, and a few times Sarah almost stepped over one of the lines, only for Jareth to pull her back, his motions gentle but strong.

Once through the arch, surrounded now by pale gray stone and a pathway of soft brown dirt, Sarah sank into a crouch and sighed. "Gods," she said. "That was one of the most frightening things I've ever done." She peered up at Jareth, who was calmly assessing their new surroundings. "I don't remember that place from before."

He shook his head, his hair flying around his face as he did so. "No," he looked down at her and smiled. "I did care about you, even then. You may have done yourself an injury in such a place." _And it was not me, really, that you met all those years ago. It was but a shadow, a nightmare of your choosing._

She scowled at him, "Cared about me, eh? What about the cleaners?"

He shrugged, "I knew you'd figure that out."

She rolled her eyes and stood, coming to stand by the Goblin King. "What do you think? Left, right, straight?"

Jareth raised his gaze to the castle. It was much closer than before they entered the lava maze. So close that he felt like he could reach out and touch it though he knew this was no indication of how far they had yet to go. He sighed and lifted his shoulders, "Straight?"

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After what felt like miles, Sarah looked down at the Labyrinth and the castle at its heart. While, from the entrance she had seen nothing but a huge expanse of twisting turns and walls, there were mountains within the Labyrinth, and they had just climbed one.

The sun was almost down, and its brilliant crimson light made the light dusting of snow at the mountains peak glow like bolts of scarlet cloth. The air was thinner here, and her legs burned from the uphill trek. Jareth, meanwhile, seemed unperturbed, his eyes flicking over their surroundings, taking in every scraggy bush and boulder. Sarah leaned against one and wiped an arm across her sweating forehead. "Do you mind if we take a break?"

"Of course not," he replied smoothly and smiled when he caught sight of her. "You look beautiful in the sunset."

She gave him a tired smile of her own, "Thank you. I _feel_ disgusting."

He came closer to her, but his eyes remained fixed on the pathway around them. "I can take care of that for you if you like. It's not as relaxing as a bath, but it gets the job done."

"I don't care about relaxing right now; I just want to feel less filthy." She was sure she had sweat stains under her armpits, and there was a damp pool gathering on her lower back. At Jareth's considering look she clarified, "If you can get rid of the sweat and the dirt than please do."

Jareth touched her bare arm with his gloved hand, and just like that, she felt better. The sweat and filth disappeared, and her skin felt silky like she had just emerged from a long shower. Even her clothing felt clean. The Goblin King smiled at her, "Is that better?"

Sarah blew out a satisfied sigh, "Oh, you have _no idea_." She grinned at him, but his eyes remained focused elsewhere. "What's wrong? Do you feel something out of place?"

Jareth tilted his head, regarding the path ahead, where it disappeared around a curve. They were not at the apex of the mountain just yet, but there was not much more above them. "I don't know. Whatever it is may be too far away, or crafty enough to hide its presence from me."

She placed a hand on his arm, and Jareth looked down at her, his eyes a little unfocused. Sarah stood up on tiptoe and gave him a brief kiss on the lips before she second-guessed herself. She had wanted to do it since they had woken. At his look, she smiled, "I wanted to kiss you before we got in any more life threatening danger. Just in case."

Jareth gave a low growl, "That was not a proper kiss."

She raised her eyebrows, "Oh?"

He pressed her up against the boulder and brought his hands to either side of her face, pinning her in place. An electric pulse shot through her, and Sarah suddenly found that she was hyper-aware of her body, and how close it was to him. All of him. The Goblin King leaned in, and her eyelids fluttered closed in anticipation, but he stopped within an inch of her parted lips. "I would show you how a kiss is done," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "But I don't have your permission."

Sarah's eyes flew open in shock, and she saw Jareth grinning at her though his eyes smoldered above the wide smile, the colors within shifting as he looked at her. His hands remained on either side of her head, and it felt like her skin was afire where he touched her, even through his gloves. She let out an impatient breath. "Listen here, Jareth," she said, her voice pitched low. "You henceforth have permission to kiss me anytime, and anywhere, you so choose."

Jareth's teeth glinted in the dim light, and his fingers tightened minutely on her head. He leaned into her once again, but this time, Sarah kept her eyes on him. He stopped within a hairs width of her lips, his breath sliding across her in a soft, subtle press. Sarah's hands lifted to his chest, her fingers sliding against the satin and velvet of his vest. Jareth let out another low growl, and the sound reverberated through her fingertips. "What's said is said," he murmured, voice rich and dark, and then claimed her lips with his own.

His fingers plunged into her hair and one hand cupped the back of her neck, turning her face up to him. Sarah gave a small sound and her hands slipped up to rest on his shoulders, her fingernails pressed into the soft fabric. Her lips parted against the press of his, and Jareth's tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her as she tasted him. Sarah moaned, her body turning liquid in his arms, steady heat rising from deep within her. She tightened her grip on his shoulders and pressed her body into his. She felt his answering desire, the hand in her hair traveling down the curve of her back to rest on her butt, his hips pressing firm against her.

Sarah did not want the kiss to end. She wanted _more_. Every man she had been with had called her frigid, cold… she had been an ice queen to them. But now… now she was filled with a frenzy that shocked her. She wanted to feel Jareth's bare skin on hers, feel him between her legs, filling her and claiming her as his own. She wanted to roll in the scent and sight of him, to hold him in her eyes, her arms, her heart, and never let go. The feeling of desire grew to such dizzying heights that she could not say which way was up or down, but she knew that she wanted him. Him—Jareth, the Goblin King, the ruler of the Labyrinth. She wanted him, and no one else.

A sense of deep, abiding peace fell over her and there seemed to be an almost audible _click_ within her _._ Deep inside something broke, or healed, she could not tell which, but she suddenly knew that she could not leave this place. _I can't forget him again._

Jareth pulled away despite her protestations, his hands coming to rest on her hips. He pushed her gently from him, the smile on his lips and the fire in his eyes a mirror of her own. She reached up and touched his lips gently with her fingertips and swallowed past the dryness in her throat. Sudden tears welled up in her eyes as she let fly the words that could damn her, or save her. "I think—I _know_ I—I love you."

He pulled her close to him again and leaned down, the kiss brief and chaste compared to the first though it still left her reeling. He nuzzled her neck and gently nibbled her ear before he murmured, "And I you."

Sarah closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around the Goblin King, her chest painful and light in the same instant. She did not want to let go. Now that she had given voice to her true feelings, not just to him but to herself, she wanted nothing but to revel in them. She wanted to hold tight that singular, perfect moment that he had whispered in her ear. She clung to him, tears washing down her face, and whispered, "I can't go back. I can't forget you again. I won't."

 _It will be like dying_ , she thought.

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Jareth could only tear himself away because of the increased pressure on his senses. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, but something was happening up ahead of them. He knew that they had to find the source of the terror that steadily pressed down on his temples, despite how much he wanted to wrap himself in Sarah's arms and never let go. _She's going to stay,_ he thought, his heart soaring, _at last…_ the solitude that had plagued him all these years would finally— _finally_ —be at an end.

When he pulled away, he gave Sarah a handkerchief to wipe away the tracks of tears that stained her face. She was lovely even after she had been crying, her jewel-bright eyes glittering in the twilight. He knew that she had just confessed that she would sacrifice her entire life for him, all that she held familiar, and he felt both blissful and shamed with the knowledge of it. _But if she's Fae_ , he thought, _she won't forget. She'll be able to go to her family and… return to me._ The thought made him almost delirious with pleasure.

He shook himself and looked up the path once more. He thought he could hear a cry for help and, when Sarah jerked her head at the noise, knew it had not been his imagination. "We have to move, my love. I'm sorry."

Sarah shook her head. "We have a lot still to do." She smiled at him, a brief flash in the darkening light. "But I think the break was worth it, don't you?"

He growled in affirmation and took her hand, leading her up the path and into the face of certain danger.

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Thank you to Tenjp, MyraValhallah, MarieVance ,and Jatredgirl. I really love seeing the constants so I can glean the mind of my reader as they progress through the story. Thank you also to first time and rare reviewers Honoria Granger, kellyn1604, and Tioughnioga. I am so happy to hear from all of you and I hope to see more soon!

I wanted to take a moment to respond to Tioughnioga's comment _"But didn't Dionysus give Sarah the poison to administer to Jareth, telling her it wouldn't harm him?"_.

First, I apologize if I didn't make Dionysus's intentions clear. That's a failing of the writer, not the reader. And just in case others have had the same question; Dionysus is striking out at who he considers to be the least dangerous and possibly most gullible of his challengers. Because Sarah is integral to Jareth's ability to solve the Labyrinth, and because Dionysus is a sly and crafty _mothereffer_ , he wanted to remove a burgeoning problem before it could blossom into a real threat.

Essentially... he lied, and he tricked. It is his way.

As for MyraValhalla's comment, _"Wondering whether Dionysus and Moira have heard of sound proofing or just don't care- I suspect the latter."..._ yeah, those old castles certainly weren't very sound proof, and I doubt the two of them are interested in home improvement projects. :-p


	12. Dark Wings

**A/N:** Okay, as promised, here's your second chapter for the day.

And there's a "but" coming…

BUT… you may not see an upload from me for a few days. I have to go back to my day-job of scrubbing toilets. No wonder I fantasize about the Goblin King, right?

Also, chapter thirteen is proving to be a bit of a pain. I may need to take a bit of a breather to concentrate on other things. I have, however, planned and partially written out a stand-alone _purely lemon_ story involving our favorite fantasy pairing (with strong BDSM themes, so beware). I may upload that sometime this week.

As always, thank you to those who have taken the time to write a bit of a review. I try to message people back but if I haven't gotten to you I will soon.

Cheers, darlings, and have a lovely week.

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any of its characters. I do not profit from this story in any way.

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 **Chapter Twelve**

 **'Dark Wings'**

The source of the distress Jareth felt was clear once they rounded the corner. Great black warbirds circled ahead while high, pitiful screams and whines came from a crevasse at the bottom of sheer cliff-face. Jareth could see better than a human in the dark, but even he had trouble making out the shapes of a handful of trembling goblins, their faces upturned to the warbirds above them.

Sarah squeezed his hand and leaned over to inspect the little creatures, then looked up at the birds overhead. "What are those?"

Jareth narrowed his eyes, "They are Dionysus' personal guard. Battle-generals summoned and controlled by his concubine Moira."

She swallowed. "I'm assuming they're dangerous?"

"Very. One of those creatures is responsible for Ludo."

Her eyes narrowed, and he could feel her trembling, rage pouring off her like a blast of heat from an open oven. The amulet at her neck seemed to gleam in response, giving off a quick, faint glow before fading. He felt an answering breeze at the little push of magic, and the warbirds beat their wings faster to keep aloft. "How do I kill them?"

Jareth released her hand and summoned a sword and dagger pair. He handed the weapons to her hilt-first. "Stab anything that gets close enough. I'm going to speak to the goblins, see what happened here."

Sarah gave a terse nod and Jareth left her, his heart pounding as he skittered down the steep slope of the cliff face to the little rock ledge over the crevasse. He squatted down so that he could better see the figures inside, and felt a surge of shock at the sight. "Higgle?"

The goblin glared at him, "Its Hoggle!"

 _The bloody dwarf changes his name every season and_ he's _the one that gets upset about it._ "Yes. What are you _doing_ here, and who are your companions?"

The goblin's eyes narrowed still further. "They're my friends and what's we're doing here is our business."

One of the other goblins shoved Hoggle roughly out of the way and peered up at Jareth. "Sire! We have a cave nearby, and we were out looking for food when the blood crows descended on us. We're trapped."

Jareth glanced up at the sky. He could see Sarah's silhouette against the burgeoning moonlight, and the movement of the enormous warbirds as their shapes eclipsed the light from the stars. He looked back down at the goblins, "They'll starve you out."

"And they'll rip us apart if we leave this shelter," Hoggle snarled.

Jareth pursed his lips. "Stay here. We'll take care of it."

He ascended the cliff face to Sarah, Hoggle's voice ringing out after him, " _Who'll_ take care of it? Did he say 'we'?"

At the top, he approached Sarah, whose gaze never left the circling warbirds. Her weapons were held loosely in each hand, and he fought against a surge of tenderness that threatened to overwhelm him. He had coerced her here, true enough, but she was willing to avenge or defend his subjects and her friends the moment the need arose. She had grown tremendously not just from when they had first met, but from the moment she had stepped foot in the Labyrinth this time. The change was splendid to behold.

 _She would make a fine Queen_.

He shook himself and touched her shoulder gently. Sarah tilted her head toward him but did not remove her gaze from the circling threat. "What's going on?" She asked, her voice soft.

Jareth conjured a sword of his own, affixing the weapon to the belt at his hip. "There's a group of approximately five goblins down below. They were out scavenging for food when Dionysus' guard attacked them. They're pinned down—if they emerge the war birds will tear them to pieces, but those creatures can circle for days. The goblins will starve before the creatures depart."

Sarah gave a short nod. "We have to kill them then, or scare them off."

"I'm afraid this will be a battle to the death. They never give up, not once they catch the scent of their prey." He took a deep breath and drew the dueling sword at his belt, "They're more than what they appear—they will have a leader who can summon the very forces of nature. We must dispatch them as fast as we are able." He paused, "Oh, and your friend Hoggle is down there."

Sarah started, and her eyes left their enemies for a moment, wide with shock. "Hoggle? Are you sure?"

There was an answering call, tiny and far away, "Sarah? What are you doing here?"

A smile split her face, and Sarah gave a short, genuine bark of laughter. "I'm saving your life!" She called down, and then tilted her head at Jareth in a nod. "I counted four of the feathery bastards. You?"

He agreed.

"How do we get them down?"

Jareth gritted his teeth and rested the edge of his sword against the skin of his wrist, bare between shirt and glove, "Like this." He pressed down, and blood beaded from his skin in an instant before one of the great warbirds gave a shriek and plunged down at them, talons outstretched and bloodlust blazing in its red eyes.

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The creatures dive-bombed them, and Sarah threw herself out of Jareth's way. She had never seen him use a sword before but knew he would need room to work. She had no desire to be stabbed on accident.

The birds, which had looked to be about the size of a golden eagle from afar, grew rapidly as they approached until they were the size of a Great Dane, with a wingspan of at least twenty feet. Sarah took a deep, steadying breath and raised her sword and dagger, ready for the assault.

She brought her weapon to bear on the warbird that initially targeted Jareth. It had not seen her with her dark hair and clothing and was intent on the still-bleeding Goblin King. The creature had no time to register its mistake on its shockingly human features before her dagger struck it. Powered by the creatures dive, the dagger parted the skin beginning at its chest and all the way down to the tail features. Disemboweled, it was only able to give a brief _sqwark_ of surprise before it tumbled boneless to the side, crashing several hundred feet down the sharp incline of the mountain.

Her arm throbbed from the impact of the creature on her dagger, but she barely had time to acknowledge the hurt before a second warbird dropped to the ground with a flurry of wind that scattered dust and debris high into the air. Sarah flinched from the gale, shielding her eyes out of habit, and the eagle lashed out with its wickedly curved beak, cutting into the arm she used to cover her eyes. Sarah cried out and dropped her dagger, but raised her sword as the bird came in for a second strike.

Her sword sparked off the sharply curved beak of the creature like the reaction of steel hitting stone. The eagle's red eyes blazed like coals in its black face, and its strangely human features twisted in rage. It beat its wings against the ground, stirring up more dust to obscure her vision, but Sarah understood the purpose of the trick now and squinted her eyes instead of shutting them. It provided her with the bare half-second necessary to block before the bird kicked out with steak-knife length talons, ripping through her shirt but avoiding the soft belly beneath.

She heard a feral scream from behind her and bared her teeth in a savage smile. Jareth had just slain his own foe, she was certain of it. An instant later she felt his back press up against hers, the solid presence of him bolstering her calm and renewing the sense of righteous indignation she felt against the terrible creatures. They were trying to hurt Hoggle and four other goblins. _They have to be stopped_.

The bird stalked toward her on curled talons, its head bobbing from one side to the other like a snake-charmed cobra. She felt Jareth tense against her back, and a moment later he was gone, screaming in a language that she could not understand. She barely had time to register the fact before her enemy lashed out again and she had to parry.

Sarah had never used a sword before she returned to the Labyrinth, but somehow the weapon seemed like an extension of her arm, as though it was _meant_ to be there. She parried another thrust from the curved, snapping beak and drew blood on the monster with a swift downward stroke. She had aimed for the side of its neck, intending to sever a major artery of some kind, but the bird deflected with one massive wing. Her sword sunk into the flight feathers and thin flesh until the steel hit solid bone and she withdrew. It all happened in one smooth, fast motion.

The warbird screamed, and lightning arced across the sky at its call. Sarah had only a second to register what was about to happen, the hair rising on the back of her neck. Her body moved too slowly to do anything. She saw the lightning fork and race downward, straight at her outstretched steel sword.

But something else struck her before the lightning could. Sarah hit the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of her lungs and had to blink through the sudden flash of heat, light and noise that erupted around her. She could smell burnt hair and the cloying stench of cooked flesh.

She blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to clear her vision before the next strike of warbird or lightning. She saw Jareth's slumped form, right where she had been a moment before, and the enormous warbird with its wings spread over the fallen Goblin King, shrieking triumph into the skies. Two of its comrades lay still on the flat ground on which they had fought, spreading pools of blackness a sure sign that they would not be joining the fight again.

Sarah locked her jaw and pulled herself to her feet, shaking. Her wounded arm, shocked by the impact of the first war bird, the talons of the second, and now the fall was screaming out at her. She ignored it as best she could, her eyes flickering to Jareth's still form and charging the last of Dionysus's personal guard.

The creature did not see her coming, so absorbed in its triumph as it swept its head down toward the prone Goblin King. Sarah screamed as she brought her sword down two-handed, ignoring the blaze of pain up her arms. The sword bit through the back of the eagle's neck like butter, and its head went rolling away to fall down the mountain and join the pieces of its comrade. The sword hit the ground and stuck. Sarah leaned against it for a moment, her breathing labored.

She fell to her knees, arms and legs trembling with fatigue. She took a moment to breathe before she crawled over to Jareth's still form, her heart thundering in her chest. _Please, please, please don't be dead_ , she thought savagely. He looked terrible, burnt and blackened over more than half of his body. Her hand found his neck, and she let out a choked sob when she felt his pulse beating beneath her fingers, faint but sure.

Hoggle and his band emerged from the crevasse to find Sarah holding Jareth's limp head in her lap. She barely registered her old friends' presence, fumbling as she was for the flask in Jareth's vest. She tipped the liquid within into his open mouth, massaging his throat so that he swallowed. The Goblin King was burned along one entire side of his body, the skin blackened and peeling over horribly red wounds, his clothing smoldered away to nothing but strips of singed cloth.

Sarah pressed her forehead to his and closed her eyes, hoping that he had not changed the liquid within the flask to something other than the healing potion in the day since he had last administered it to her. Her fingers gently stroked his hair, and her mouth moved in a silent prayer.

Hoggle stood staring at his friend with his mouth hanging open in disbelief. His four companions stood on either side of them and watched with dawning wonder as the horrible burns on their former liege knitted themselves closed. The Goblin King opened his eyes to smile up at the woman who held him in her arms.

Neither of them noticed as a single white feather dropped out of the sky above them. It fell through the windy skies as steady as a lead weight. A few feet above them it split cleanly down the middle, one side falling into Sarah's hand, the other into Jareth's.

####

Jareth followed Hoggle and his band to their cave further down the mountain side. He carried Sarah in his arms. She had taken her own drought of the potion at the top of the mountain, stood, and promptly collapsed into an exhausted stupor. Jareth had lifted her in his arms and she had given only a half-hearted murmur of protest. Her head rested against his chest, her body curled in his arms, her hand fisted in his shirt. He knew that, despite the cold mountain air and the bumpy ride, she was fast asleep.

The goblins chattered excitingly to themselves as they walked, even after his admonishment that they should keep quiet. It was no good trying to tell these types of goblins to do much of anything.

His half of the owl feather had stayed corporal for only a few moments before it was absorbed into his skin. Though he had not tried it yet, Jareth could feel that his owl form was waiting for him. The freedom of flight was, again and at last, his. Not only that but, if his suspicions were correct, he could now soar beneath the starry sky side by side with the woman now held in his arms.

Sarah had not registered the last artifact, but Jareth could not blame her. Having already been weakened by Dionysus' poison, she had gone through tremendous physical effort before the battle that ended their day. She would sleep as long as she desired if he had anything to do with it.

 _But you have little more than twenty-six hours until the lunar year is up_ , _and one more task yet to complete before the duel can be won_.

He tightened his grip on Sarah's soft form and followed the goblins as they led him into the cave they called home. It was remarkably spacious for a goblin dwelling, with ceilings that were tall enough to accommodate even his considerable height. The cave had been separated into two distinct parts—one part sleeping quarters with separate bunks, and one part congregation area. The goblins had obviously been here for some time, as there were animal bones and refuse scattered around the edges of the common area, and low stones worn smooth from hours of sitting.

A fire still blazed in a circle of smooth gray rocks, casting a warm yellow-orange glow on the natural stone walls. Hoggle led him toward the back of the cave, where there were spaces carved into the rock walls large enough to allow Sarah to lie down comfortably.

Jareth nodded at the little goblin and created a blanket to drape over Sarah's sleeping form. He tucked it in around the edges to ensure the chill of the bare walls around her would not interfere with her sleep and followed Hoggle back toward his little band of companions.

Jareth sat on the floor against one of the stone walls, one leg spread out in front of him and the other bent so he could rest one long arm across the knee. He surveyed the goblins calmly and said, in as gentle a voice as he could manage, "Can you tell me what has happened to bring you all here? Why are you not in the villages where you belong?"

The goblins all looked at each other, fear evident on their faces. Jareth knew he had not been the most gracious of rulers at times, but he had been just and fair. He commanded respect out of his subjects, even those led by Sarah's old ally. One of them stepped up, a grey-skinned little fellow with large yellow eyes and a patchwork tunic. "Sire, Dionysus set out cleansing the villages of those against his reign the moment he seized control." The creature nodded toward Hoggle, " _He_ was singled out the first day, but the rest of us followed in time."

Jareth raised his eyebrows at the dwarf, who shrugged. He gave a slight nod to the goblin. "And your name?"

"Azra, sire."

"Thank you, Azra. But why were you attacked by the warbirds?'

Hoggle spoke this time, "Dionysus put a moratorium on us gathering food. Says we has to grow it ourselves or else, by all rights, it belongs to him and we's stealing it."

Jareth gave a tight smile and waved his hand at the low stone table cluttered with half-broken crockery. The broken items disappeared, and the table was suddenly laden with food. Roasts, pies, jugs of ale, and mounds of potatoes. "Please," he said. "You all must be hungry. Help yourselves."

The goblins all fell upon the delicious-smelling food without a second thought, all but Hoggle. He approached Jareth, cautious and first and then with steady determination, his shoulders set squarely forward. "Jareth," Hoggle murmured when he was within a foot of the Goblin King's face.

"Hoggle," he said, his voice matching the dwarf in pitch. "I have to say, I did not expect to see you among any of my loyal followers."

The dwarf gave another shrug of his thick shoulders, "We may nots get on all the time, but you's still my king." He glanced toward the back of the cavern, "And speaking of which, is that my Sarah?"

Jareth gave Hoggle a wry smile. "I believe she is her own, not yours, but yes… she is the Sarah, who ran the Labyrinth thirteen years ago."

Hoggle's eyes narrowed, "And you ain't… you ain't working against her now? She's safe?"

He raised his eyebrows, "You just saw that girl torn bloody, and you're asking if she's safe? No, Hoggle, she is not safe. Not until I regain my throne—a task that she is graciously helping me complete." _Even if I had to kidnap her to begin with_ , he smiled to himself, _well, it is practically a rule, after all._

Hoggle pointed a thick finger at him though he was careful not to touch the Goblin King with it. "You knows what I mean," he growled. "Last time she was here, you were trying to keep her here, I knows it. Is she safe from _you_."

Jareth pursed his lips and felt his eyes harden. Hoggle took a self-conscious step backward, his eyes widening. "Hoggle," Jareth said, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll ask that you recall what you saw when you and your cronies came out of hiding earlier this evening."

"You and Sarah, sire."

"Yes. And what was Sarah doing?"

Hoggle swallowed loudly, "Holding your head in her lap." His voice quieted even further, "But yous was injured. She's just…" he struggled to hold on to his indignation. "She's a kind lady."

Jareth gave a deep nod of acquiescence and pitched his voice low so as not to be overheard. "I love her, Hoggle, and she me."

The goblin eyed him for a long, silent moment. Even though Hoggle had confirmed his loyalty to Jareth, he had the feeling the dwarf would raise an unholy racket if he suspected Jareth had coerced Sarah in any way. They stared at each other for a long few moments before Hoggle gave a terse nod, "I'll be askin' Sarah about this when she wakes." With that, he shuffled off to his companions to partake in the small feast.

Jareth replaced some of the eaten food with new creations before he leaned his head back against the stone wall and closed his eyes. He was weary, but it was more emotional exhaustion than a physical one. He had overcome a majority of the Labyrinth. With only one task left to him, he would have, under any other circumstances, considered himself lucky. Instead, he felt a growing sense of dread and contempt for what he had to do. _I have to,_ he thought, _but I have the feeling that she… she may want to._ The idea made his stomach contract almost painfully, _I have for, oh, so many years, I have wanted her._

He rolled his head over toward where Sarah slept and tried to make out her shape in the deep shadows at the back of the cave. He could not, but he could feel her peaceful, sleepy presence there. Without a word to the goblins, Jareth rose and strode to the sleeping area, where he spread himself out underneath the bunk that sheltered Sarah and closed his eyes.

 _No matter what happens_ , he thought, _I'll have her. Even if she is never the Goblin Queen, she will be_ my _queen._


	13. Everything I Am

**A/N:** Main authors note below! Please **read and review** , lovelies!

 **Warning:** This story is rated 'M' for a reason. This chapter contains adult themes… also known as lemons. Lots of lemons.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or its characters. Lyrics are © "Dust to Dust" by The Civil Wars. (If you listen to that song while reading this chapter you get extra points. Extra points are a thing)

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 **Chapter Thirteen**

 **'Everything I Am'**

Sarah woke to the scent of wood smoke. She opened her eyes and peered about, but it was difficult to make out much of anything in the dim light. Stretching, her legs hit the stone barrier of her bunk and, ducking her head out from under the low ledge, she swung her feet down and hit something warm and soft.

Sarah bit back a yelp and then grinned down at the Goblin King, who had caught her foot before it hit the bridge of his nose. He smiled at her, released the foot, and rolled way so that she could rise unencumbered. Sarah stretched, her muscles sore and stiff from her hard bed, and looked around.

The cavern was full of the sounds and smells of a pack of goblins. Chicken feathers drifted into the corners of what looked like the main gathering area, and the small pack of refugee goblins were sprawled on the floor and curled around the fires, their snores echoing in the vast chamber. The sour smell of spilled beer, burnt meat, and an almost barnyard animal musk filled the air. Sarah smiled when she spotted Hoggle, his short body curved around a jug of ale almost as tall as he was.

Jareth touched her shoulder and, when her attention moved to him, tilted his head toward the source of the dim light. Sarah followed his gaze to see the cave entrance, barely visible behind a half-wall of solid rock. She nodded and followed the Goblin King outside, careful to step over the sleeping creatures.

Once outside, Sarah stretched again, reveling in the feel of the cool mountain air on her skin. While she had grown accustomed to the smell of the cave in her sleep, the air outside was noticeably fresh and clean.

She lowered her arms and looked out over the Labyrinth spread before them, the castle closer now than it had ever been. It looked as though they could descend the mountain and be at its gates. "What—" Sarah started, looking back at Jareth and then motioning toward the Labyrinth, "It looks almost _normal_ again."

He came to stand beside her, and a smile widened the corners of his lips, "So it does." He reached out and touched the medallion around her neck, "And I believe we have you to thank for it."

" _I'm_ doing this?"

"The amulet and you, yes. It is tapping into your desires for how the Labyrinth is to be shaped. You are, effectively, cleansing it from Dionysus's pollution."

Sarah reached up, hesitated, and dropped her hand before it could touch the golden symbol, "I had almost forgotten about it."

She walked to the edge of the path before the cave and looked down into the open air. She had a mad desire to leap off the edge and soar out over the Labyrinth, so much so that she had lifted her foot without realizing it until Jareth's hand closed gently over her arm.

"Not yet, my love."

Sarah blinked and turned to him, setting her feet firmly on the hard-packed dirt of the trail. "What was—"

"We received the last artifact after the battle." His hand moved down her arm and he twined his fingers in hers, pulling her closer. "Its power is whispering to you now, just as it does to me."

She put her hand on his chest, parting the deep cut shirt so that her fingers skimmed over the smooth skin of his chest. "How? I don't remember."

"It revealed itself after we fought off the warbirds. The owl is the protector of the goblins if you remember, and we showed the Labyrinth last night that we would both fight to the death to protect our subjects. The feather appeared, and then split down the middle. One part came to me, and the other to you. We share in the power." He bent down and lay a gentle kiss on her lips, "The way to the dueling ground will be open to us now."

A sharp pain seemed to lance down her spine at his words and she pressed her cheek against his chest. "I'm afraid. I wish you didn't have to fight him."

"Even if it were not in the rules, darling, I would have to face him if I ever hoped to retain the loyalty of my subjects. They follow the strong, and I must prove to them why _I_ am the rightful Goblin King." He lifted his hand and brushed her cheek gently with his fingers, "But we have hours until we must go, and I have something I would show you."

Sarah stepped back and tried to smile, but the fear still held her tight in its grip. She gave a shaky nod, "Okay. What is it?"

"Close your eyes."

####

Jareth drew on his power to pull them to his sanctuary, wrapping the world around them as swiftly as pulling on a cloak. Sarah's eyes were closed and, for a moment, he marveled in her trust of him, something wholly unexpected considering how brief their reunion. He touched his lips to hers and when he pulled away, said, "Open your eyes."

Sarah did, and when she took in her surroundings laughter bubbled from her and her eyes sparkled. "Oh, you _didn't_."

He smiled as she took in the ballroom, much as it had been on the night she had visited thirteen years ago though there was no audience this time. He had changed his clothes and hers though her silver dress was a more slender affair than it had been when she was still a young girl, the material sleek and clinging to her supple curves. Music filled the air, soft and melodious, and without a word he took her hand in one of his own, snaked the other around her waist, and pulled her into a dance.

Sarah's eyes lifted to his, and the smile she wore warmed him to his very core. He smiled back at her and pulled her close, "Do you remember this?"

She followed his lead, their movements taking them in a slow circulation of the ballroom. "I do. I had wondered if it was just a dream—something that I made up after the peach." She narrowed her eyes, "That wasn't very nice of you, by the way."

He smiled wider, "It is a real place and, oh, I wouldn't say that. I saw it more as a welcome interlude to your journey, and it _did_ take you to just outside the city gates. Wouldn't you say that was… _generous_?"

She laughed, but then a frown line appeared between her brows, "You said that in the end, didn't you? I have trouble remembering it. Everything else is so clear but… after I jumped, I felt like I was in a dream, watching myself instead of actually _being_ there."

Jareth nodded, his grip tightening around her waist. "You had broken my magic, and the Labyrinth was reordering itself as we spoke. The magical fallout would have been felt even by someone like you. If you _are_ a changeling, at that point you were still bound by the spell that made you appear mortal—it would have been difficult for you to withstand the energies coursing through you." He took a deep breath, "I was angry, then, and frightened, but I wanted…"

Sarah looked up at him, her gaze penetrating, "You can tell me. Please tell me."

His movements slowed until they stood gently swaying in place. He bent down and pressed his lips to the top of her head, his eyes closed. "I wanted you to stay, Sarah." He took a deep, shaking breath, "No one had ever conquered the Labyrinth, and I was… enchanted by you. I had never met a woman so fierce, who would put herself in such danger to retrieve the child that I had taken. Your eyes held a world of possibilities." _I had thought them a promise that this cruel solitude would be banished for once and all._

He swallowed hard, "I visit the Fae courts, and some of my friends and family visit me, much as you saw when you were here thirteen years ago but they never—I never—it does not last long." He could not continue. The yawning emptiness that had plagued him since the end of his childhood opened up inside of him, beckoning him with cool, cruel fingers. _I am always alone._

Sarah reached up and cupped her hands to either side of his head, standing up on tip-toes as she pulled his face to hers. Her eyes searched his from inches away, and when she spoke, he could feel her breath on his lips. "You won't be alone," she said, echoing his thoughts. "Never again."

####

Sarah pressed her lips to his and felt the warmth that she had been holding back by a razor's edge flood through her, spurred by the feel, the taste, the very smell of him. Jareth made a low sound in his throat and dropped his hands to wrap around her shoulders and waist, pulling her body tight against his. She could feel his excitement, not just in the way that his body responded to hers, but in the way he _felt_. There was an almost palpable anticipation on his lips, a sweet edge to the taste of him when she opened to let his tongue explore once again.

All of that cool indifference she had felt with her previous partners was made clear to her now. She had never been meant for mortal men with mortal passions. She had been meant for _him_.

She ran her hands down his face to his neck, past the ruffled lace at his throat and down his chest, her fingers skipping over the buttons of his shirt. She could feel his heartbeat in her fingertips, hard and so fierce that she felt she was holding the organ in her hands. She could feel her own speed as he pressed still further into her mouth, his teeth grazing her lips and coaxing a moan from her throat.

When he broke the kiss she gasped, but his mouth merely trailed down her cheek. He nibbled down the skin of her jaw and her throat, his hands raised to trace the outline of her breast through the silk of her dress. Sarah pressed herself forward and into his palm, her body arching. Her hips pressed more solidly into his, and she could feel the evidence of his arousal.

Her eyes opened to find that they were no longer in the ballroom. Instead, a dim-lit bedroom surrounded them. She had little mind to take in the décor before his hands brought her attention back to him.

He was on his knees in front of her, his lips trailing down her chest to kiss through the thin fabric covering her stomach. He pressed his face into her and took a great, shuddering breath before he looked up at her. She could see so much in those eyes—wonder, excitement, and fear—all combining as the colors seemed to shift and swirl. She reached down and ran her hands through his hair, and he closed his eyes at her touch, leaning into her.

"Sarah," he said in a hoarse whisper. "I have wanted you for so long—"

"You needn't stop," Sarah whispered back. _Don't you dare stop_ , she thought. "I want this, Jareth. I want you."

He fisted his hands in the silk of her dress, the fabric tightening over her curves, putting her already sensitive body on high alert. When his eyes opened and beheld her once more, there was an almost primal gleam to them. "I am your slave."

He pulled her down to him, and his hands came to roughly encircle her neck, pulling her toward his mouth. He kissed her thoroughly, until she was dizzy with the sensations, her own hands finding the little buttons on his shirt and unhooking them as fast as her trembling fingers would allow. He lowered his lips to her neck, his tongue and teeth making her breath come in faster bursts. She loosened enough of the buttons to open his shirt, and her hands smoothed over his bare chest. He growled low in his throat when she pulled his shirt out of his pants, her hands coming to rest on his narrow hips.

Jareth pulled her to her feet, his hands sliding down to unclasp the row of pearls at her back that held the dress in place, the movements' fluid and practiced. She felt the fabric loosen, and puddle on the floor at her feet so that only a thin satin shift stood in the Goblin King's way. She pushed the jacket from his shoulders, and they broke their kiss so that he could shake it off his arms. Jareth pulled his shirt over his head in one swift, smooth motion and stepped back to her, his arms encircling her and lifting her off the ground.

Sarah gave a small squeak and wrapped her legs around him to steady herself as Jareth carried her to the bed. He lay her down among the silks and furs that piled high, and his gaze raked its way down her body, his eyes darkening at the sight. She felt heat rush to her cheeks and had to resist the urge to tug down the hem of her short slip. _He's comparing me to all his other lovers,_ her mind shouted out in alarm, _he's going to laugh at me_.

He bent his head and lay a gentle kiss on the top of each of her breasts and breathed against her sensitive skin, "You're so beautiful, Sarah."

Her doubts fled.

They removed the rest of the cloth barriers within moments. Sarah's breath hitched as she caught sight of all of him for the first time. She reached for him, curled her fingers around the stiff length of him and gave a gentle squeeze. Jareth groaned and closed his eyes, his head falling back to expose the hard lines of his throat. Sarah smiled to herself and rolled the Goblin King onto his back, straddling him and laying a string of soft kisses down his chest. She licked around his nipples, his hands digging into her shoulders as she did, and moved further down, her hair trailing across his chest like a lovers' caress.

When she took him into her mouth he let out a long, shuddering gasp, his hips arching upward. She countered the movement and began to slowly explore him with her lips and tongue. He was larger than any of her previous partners, and she could feel her body responding to the possibility with increased heat and delicious, trembling little spasms.

Jareth's gloved hands fisted in her hair and relaxed, by turns pulling gently and stroking. As she worked, she could hear his breath coming faster until, satisfied, she released him, her nails skimming lightly down his thighs.

He gripped her shoulders and rolled her off him, pinning her down with his hips against her thigh. His mouth was hungry at hers, heavy and biting until her lips tingled. Sarah's hands rolled up his chest to his shoulders, and her nails dug into his flesh. He bit down on her lower lip, harder than before, and she cried out. He flashed a brilliantly white smile at her and growled into her ear, "My turn."

He made his way down her body, pausing for a long moment at her breasts. His hand reached up to cup one while his mouth went to work on the other, rolling her nipple around his mouth and between his teeth. Sarah arched against him, her legs widening, hips thrust upward in anticipation. It felt like a thread of pleasure pulsed between her breasts and her sex, growing ever larger.

His hand left her breast as his mouth sought her other nipple, his gloved hand pressing down her ribs to encircle her waist and pull her stomach up against his chest. He made a low, satisfied noise at her gasps and kissed his way still further down her body.

When she felt his breath on her slick folds, she shuddered and clamped her hands down on the sheets, her knuckles white with tension. No one had ever kissed her down there. She had never let them, afraid that she would, in some way, disappoint. _But with him,_ her mind breathed, _oh, he could do anything…_

Jareth chuckled, and the air on her sensitive parts seemed like the touch of a feather, subtle and delectable. He lay a gentle kiss on either side of her opening, and then she felt his fingers gently part her lips before his mouth lowered and his tongue flicked out, gently seeking the bud of her pleasure.

Sarah lost track of time. All was sensation. His lips on hers, his tongue moving in tortuously slow circles, wrapping around and around her until she felt so tightly wound she felt she would soon shatter. Her body writhed beneath him, reacting to each stroke and gentle touch. His fingers slipped inside of her, gently thrusting as his tongue went to work, coaxing her ever higher. When he worked her into her release, a scream ripped its way from her throat, and she found her body bowing against him, tight against his mouth.

She came down slowly, her breath heavy, her body hot and slick. Jareth kissed his way back up her, resting briefly to lick around each taut nipple before his mouth was on hers again. She could taste herself on him, and she thrust her tongue into his mouth greedily, her hands deep in his hair, pulling him closer.

She could feel him at her opening, just barely touching her. Her hips arched upward but he countered the move, keeping just out of reach. They danced like this for a while, his mouth stoking her fever ever higher, the promise between her legs tortuous. She whimpered and reached for him, but he grasped her hand and pulled it away. Sarah had never felt so warm, so full to the brim with lust and need. She did not want it to end, but it felt as though the world would shatter if he teased her any longer.

He broke the kiss and looked down at her, and his gloved hands reached up to cup her face. His eyes moved back and forth, and she had the feeling that he was committing the sight of her to memory. She licked her lips and gasped as he pressed down on her just enough that a bit of him slipped inside. Her hands moved down his neck to his back and shoulders. " _Please_ , Jareth, _please_ ," she whispered, her voice so low and hoarse that she barely recognized it.

A smile curled at the corner of his mouth. He removed his hands from her face and rose up, his gaze never leaving hers. His hands curved around her thighs, pulling her closer to him, her hair sliding across the silken sheets.

When he pushed into her, his movements were slow, deliberate. Sarah cried out and reached for him, trying desperately to feel all of him in her, but he was not to be hurried. The smile had disappeared, and his face was hard, almost primal, the sharp canines just visible at the corners of his mouth. Halfway in he stopped. Sarah almost screamed from sheer frustration, and her body contracted around him.

Then he thrust into her, the entire length of him sheathed inside in one long, hard stroke.

Sarah cried out and grasped his arms, her nails biting into his flesh as her body swelled to accommodate him. Jareth lowered himself back down, his lips finding hers, and as their kiss began so did the movement of his hips. Sarah moaned against him, her body in fervor as he coaxed her toward release with slow, languid movements. Every movement of his lips was echoed further down until it felt like she was alive with just the movement of him against her, the feel of him filling her mouth and below. She shuddered against him, her body tightening as she found her release and broke their kiss, gasping.

Jareth growled and pulled himself from her, pulling her by the waist so that their positions were reversed. She reached down, guided him into her, and gasped as the new angle made him feel sharper, deeper than before. His hands were on her hips and she rocked against him, her chest thrust forward and her eyes locked on his.

He was not a passive partner. His linen-clad grip on her tightened as he thrust upward and into her. She felt like she was being lit from within, as though she were nothing but a pulsating body of need and sensation. It was only distantly that she realized that the sounds echoing in the vast bedroom were from her own throat and, with a flush of sudden embarrassment, she swallowed the moans.

Jareth's teeth bared in something akin to a snarl, though he did not relent in his movements, "Don't." He growled, "I want to hear you."

She shuddered at his words, and the next moan that bubbled up she allowed to escape. His grip tightened still further on her hips as the next orgasm came pouring out of her and she half-collapsed atop him, her chest heaving and heart galloping.

Jareth pulled out of her and, as he moved to kneel on the bed, whispered, "On your knees, love."

A delicious thrill ran through her at his words, and she accommodated him immediately, raising her hips into the air. She could feel him behind her, his hands running up the back of her thighs and over each cheek before they circled her waist and he thrust home once more. Sarah let out a cry of pleasure and felt the change in him. This time, Jareth did not hold back.

He slammed into her, the motions hard and bruising. Sarah arched her back, but he pressed her down again, his grip firm and unrelenting as he continued the delicious assault on her body. She felt as though she had become one gigantic nerve, swollen and raw. The constant stimulation made her dizzy, almost delirious with pleasure. Her throat grew raw as he brought scream after scream from her lips, his hands tightening possessively on her as he angled himself still deeper.

She let out a final cry, his name on her lips, when the rhythm changed, became more erratic. She heard his breathing shift, grow ragged. When he shouted her name, she felt his release, accompanied by a few last quick, erratic thrusts before he stilled.

Sarah half-collapsed onto the bed, her arms and legs trembling. Jareth pulled out of her slowly and, as soon as he was gone, her body screamed in protest, the loss of him like a hollow ache. He flung himself down alongside her, one arm stretched over his head while the other wrapped around her waist. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She could see his pulse hammering in his throat. The scent of them was thick in the air, sweat and darker things like an intoxicating perfume. Sarah let out a satisfied little moan and pressed up against him, her arm falling over his chest.

They lay together, panting, for a long few moments before she heard a low chuckle bubble out of his mouth.

She lifted her head, "What?"

He turned to look at her, a smile wide on his face. "You were worth the wait, love."

####

Jareth watched as Sarah stretched, her back arched suggestively in the pale glow of the candlelight. _At last,_ he thought with satisfaction, _to have you in my bed is the culmination of every dream I ever had, my love._ She raised herself up on an elbow and looked around the room for the first time, then shook the hair out of her face. "Where are we?"

His hand played lazily on one of her thighs, his fingers moving in slow, languid circles. "In my palace, of course."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Palace? You mean the castle beyond the goblin city?"

He shook his head. "I created this place from the stuff between the worlds when I was little more than a child. It was my retreat."

She turned onto her side, facing him, her hands moving down his sweat-slick chest. "Why would you need a retreat?"

Though speaking of those days usually brought dark memories to mind, the glow from their recent encounter effectively buffered his thoughts. "I was raised in the Fae court, a member of the nobility. The place is… sick," _dying,_ he thought, "and steeped in conspiracies. Even a lower-ranking member of the aristocracy has trouble with the occasional assassination attempt. Everyone makes places like this. They're similar to the bolt-holes your own armed forces use when they're under fire."

She frowned at him, "That doesn't sound like a pleasant upbringing."

He shook his head, "Not precisely, though these days I use the palace as a place to gather with my friends and family." He smiled, "You crashed the party last time you were here."

"I did?"

"When you swallowed the peach you took a piece of my magic into you. I wasn't sure exactly what it would do, but it transported you here." He looked around, "Well, not here, though that _would_ have been interesting, but to the ballroom."

She lightly slapped his chest, "Pervert. I was only fifteen."

He smiled, "Yes, but one could see the woman you would become." He laid a gentle kiss on her lips, "You do not disappoint."

Sarah smiled back, the motion lighting up her face, but then faltered. She traced circles along his chest and down to his waist. His eyes followed the movements. "Jareth, why did I forget? Why does the Labyrinth do that?"

He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, "Self-preservation, mostly. When the goblin kingdom and, subsequently, the Labyrinth came into being, mortals constantly tried to find their way Underground. The Fae of the time found ways to coexist with the needs of the humans, but there was the fear that they would try to come through in numbers—to conquer us." His grip tightened around Sarah's waist, "The Labyrinth protects itself and its creatures from what it perceives as a threat, and an armed human host with iron in their grip would have been deadly. The warrior goblins, the ones like Dionysus, are some of our more formidable defenders, but even they have their limits."

Sarah's hand stopped its movements, "So it blocks the memory so I wouldn't go screaming to the police that goblins kidnapped my baby brother?"

"Essentially, yes."

"Does it know I would have been thrown in a mental facility if I had done so?" She laughed, "I guess I understand, but then… _how_ did I remember?"

He chuckled, "Because you remembered _me,_ my love. As soon as you did, the rest fell into place." He ran a hand through her hair, "That, and you're not exactly human. The spell was meant for them, not for the likes of us."

"Mm," Sarah said, and pressed up against him, her legs twining with his. She raised her gaze to his, "What other differences are there between Fae and human?"

He growled, grasped her hand, and pulled her even closer, his body stirring at the nearness of hers. "Careful, my queen."

She blinked, and smiled, "I am not a queen."

He laughed a little and nuzzled her neck, breathing in the heady scent of her, more intense after their interlude. "Do you really think," he murmured, his teeth finding her ear lobe and nibbling softly, "that you would stay here with me, and I would not place a crown of silver and moonstones on that lovely head of yours? You are mine, Sarah, and any woman who claims me has claimed my title, my kingdom," he kissed her gently at each word, but then pulled back so that he could look her in the eyes, "and my heart."

Sarah smiled, the movement tentative, "Are you serious?"

He squeezed her waist. "The Labyrinth itself has made its intentions for you clear. When I win this duel, I would have you rule at my side." He smiled, "My queen."

Sarah took a shaking breath and shook her head. "I can't think of that now." Her smile turned mischievous, and he felt her hand venture low on his body, "But I _can_ think of some other things…"

They shared a low laugh and let their bodies continue the conversation.

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 **A/N:** Woof. That took a while to write.

This is my longest chapter so far. I'm totally using that as an excuse!

Musical inspiration for this piece goes to Meg Myers 'Desire' and The Civil Wars 'Dust to Dust'. Seriously good songs that I practically played on repeat while writing this chapter. I highly recommend both of them. Go, listen now!

Thank you, as always, to my faithful reviewers. You are loved!

I hope to have another chapter up soon. No telling when. I'm toying with two main ideas at the moment and have to decide between the two or somehow get them to play nice together. I may have a lot of cuts and edits before I'm satisfied.

And for the record, I was (literally) scrubbing a toilet at a client's house the other day and said, "I wish the goblin king would come and take me away, right now." It didn't work. There wasn't even a speck of glitter. _Sigh_ …

Well, at least I get to play with him in writing, heheh.

Happy trails, lovelies.

Please **review**.


	14. The Calm Before

**A/N:** Main authors note below! (including an important announcement) Please **read and review** , lovelies!

 **Warning:** This story is rated 'M' for a reason. This chapter contains adult themes

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any of its characters. I do not profit from this story in any way.

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 **Chapter Fourteen**

 **'The Calm Before'**

Sarah looked out the windows of Jareth's palace bedroom, taking in the wide expanse of green lawn and immaculate gardens. A hedge maze dominated a good third of his property and, from her vantage point, she could see a gray granite statue at its heart—two people with their arms around each other, locked in the motions of a dance. She smiled; _I have the feeling that if I looked closer, those two would be awfully familiar_.

Beyond that, the land ended in a curtain of swirling mist. It was as though the palace and its grounds were a small island, held together—she knew—through the force of his power alone. It gave her a cool shiver to think of it. _Will I be able to do something like this?_ She wondered, _and what else besides?_

She tightened her grip on the sheet wrapped around her, pressed her palm to the cool glass, and then leaned her forehead against it. _Soon_ _Jareth is going to fight Dionysus_. The thought made a knot form in her stomach and hers knees tremble minutely. _I just found him again_ , she thought desperately, _surely he'll be okay. I won't lose him. I can't._

Still, there was a feeling of intense helplessness that shadowed her thoughts. She knew that Dionysus was cunning and sly. He had proven that when he had poisoned _her_ in the oubliette. She did not expect him to fight honorably, and she was afraid that whatever plot he had up his sleeve would take her beloved completely off guard.

Jareth came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling his face into her tousled dark hair. "You are beautiful," he murmured, his hands moving to caress her sensitive lower parts, the motion brief but enough to make her shudder against him. She could feel his satisfied smile against her neck.

She turned in his arms until they were face to face, and the sheet slipped so that their bare skin touched. Her body was already responding to his, but she took a deep, calming breath and asked the question she dreaded the most. "When do we have to go?"

Jareth kissed her, sweet but brief before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "Very soon now. Our little band of goblins is stirring, and we have less than ten hours until moonset. I have a task for them, as they are the only subjects I have on hand, and then I must fight, and win, or all that has been wronged will not be put right."

Sarah nodded against his chest, her breathing suddenly difficult, painful. When she spoke, her breath shook, "I wish we had more time."

His hand came up to fist in her hair, and he turned her head up to face him. She knew that her eyes were filled with unshed tears, but she did not care. A fierce desire to ask him not to do it, to just return to the Aboveground with her where it would be safe, rose up in her. But she knew, knew without a shadow of a doubt, that if he fled his kingdom, it would destroy him. She swallowed the words, and her tears fell. For once she did not try to wipe them away. She could not bear the thought of looking away from him. She could not.

Jareth kissed her beneath her eyelids, his lips capturing each tear. When his mouth caught hers, she could taste the salt on them, and the deeper taste of _him_.

A frenzy rose up in her and she moved to deepen the kiss, her arms capturing the back of his neck. "Sarah—" he started when he broke the kiss.

She shook her head, pulled him against her, and caught his earlobe between her teeth. She whispered to him, her breath harsh, "Please. I need you."

Jareth stepped away enough to let the sheet fall to the floor between them before he growled, his hands reaching down to pull her off the ground entirely. She wrapped her legs around him as he pressed her against the wall and, as she balanced there, he roughly groped at the laces of his breeches. She bit down on the skin of his neck, her tongue sweeping out to taste him, her hands roaming to touch every inch she could find.

He shoved into her roughly, and Sarah cried out against him, her body wet but not quite ready. This was not the slow, passionate lovemaking of before but a deeper, primal act. She tightened her legs around him and laid her head against the wall, her eyes seeking his. His gaze was dark. Whatever emotions he showed he wanted hidden as, once he saw her, he growled again and caught her mouth in a hard kiss. Her eyes closed in pleasure as his body continued to forcefully plunge into hers.

They did not speak, the only sound Sarah's soft gasps and his deeper moans as they claimed one another. This was not love so much as it was desperation, hard on the heels of their understanding that he may not live out the day. Sarah opened her mouth to him when he pressed at her with tongue and teeth, her body shaking with the feel of him, tears falling like rain down her cheeks.

She could not think beyond the sensation of him inside of her, claiming her in a fierce, hard push. Every nerve in her body screamed out its pleasure as his hips angled him deeper. He ripped himself from her mouth as he seized, and she felt his release pour into her trembling body, as he stilled except for a few last, shuddering thrusts.

Sarah let out a shaking breath and wrapped her arms around Jareth, pulling him close to her, pinning herself up against the wall. She wanted to stay like this as long as possible, with him inside of her, her muscles tightening around him in little spasms. She could feel his heart beating fierce against her breast, and her hands were slick with his sweat where she touched him. Tears fell from her eyes again to mix with the sweat, and each breath she took was filled with the scent of their coupling.

After a few long moments, she released her hold on him and slid down the wall, curling her legs underneath her. Her limbs were shaking so horribly that she was afraid she would be unable to stand though she knew she must. Jareth made one of those hand movements and clothed himself anew though he left his shirt untucked and unbuttoned.

He knelt before her and took both of her hands in his, "My love," he murmured, and her eyes lifted to his. He smiled at her, and his fingers tightened briefly, "Dionysus may be my match in battle, but I have something that he lacks."

She could barely breathe, but she managed to ask, "What?"

"Someone worth fighting for."

####

They returned to the Labyrinth, and the shadows of the lowering sun showed how the hours had passed since they had gone to his palace. He knew that Sarah was trying not to show how very afraid she was, but he could feel it coming off of her, and see it in the tight, hard set of her shoulders. He took her hand and led her back into the cave, where the goblins were up and yawning, their movements staggered in their sleep-addled state.

Hoggle was stoking the embers of the fire back to life and when Sarah caught sight of him, she let out a cry of pleasure and released Jareth's hand to bend down and hug her friend. Jareth watched their reunion and noticed that the remaining goblins were watching him. Azra looked between him and Sarah, and a dull glitter of understanding shone in his yellow eyes. He caught the Goblin Kings gaze and smiled sheepishly, his head bowed.

Jareth let Hoggle and Sarah have their little chat. He summoned a breakfast of eggs, sausage and thick, brown bread and butter for the goblins. They fell upon it with all the grace and composure of their species. He dodged a flung crust and grimaced. _They may not be the most intelligent of subjects,_ he thought, _but they're mine._ He looked over at Sarah, her eyes glittering and her skin like alabaster, so unaware of her own beauty that it made his heart hurt. _Just as she is mine, and I am hers._

He took a seat against the stone wall, folding his legs into a lotus and closing his eyes to calm his mind. He pushed the incessant chatter of the goblins into the background and focused on his breathing. He reached for that calm place deep within and readied himself.

####

"I don't knows _what_ you're thinking," the dwarf grumbled, poking the fire. "Comin' back to the Labyrinth after alls you went through."

Sarah smiled, "I didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Jareth showed up at my door and made the decision for me, but I'm glad he did, really." She frowned, "This place is terrible with Dionysus running things."

Hoggle snorted, "Yous can say that again!" He sat on one of the smooth stones by the fire and tipped a jug of ale into his mouth. Wiping the back of his hand across his lips, he fixed Sarah with a piercing stare, "But thats was none of your concern. We would has been just fine on our own. Jareth would have figured it out."

She shrugged, "Maybe. Maybe not."

His eyes narrowed, and he shot a look at the Fae in question sitting against the wall, his eyes closed and his breathing steady. Sarah followed his gaze and lingered, watching the rise and fall of his chest and sweeping her eyes over every delicious part of him. Heat rose in her cheeks as Hoggle made a strangled sort of noise, pulling her attention back to her friend. He was looking at her with utter astonishment written plain across his features. "Sarah, he tried to tips you and me into the _bog_."

Sarah shuddered at the memory of the stench. "He did a lot of bad things," she said softly. "But I understand _why_ he did them now. It… changes things."

Hoggle leaned forward and placed on large, thick hand on her knee, "He's not human, Sarah. He's not like you or your kind."

She stiffened, "Actually, Hoggle, that's not precisely true." She raised her fingers to the medallion at her neck and, for the first time, Hoggle seemed to notice it. His eyes widened and he snatched his hand back from her. It made her heart hurt to see the look of fear in his wide eyes. Her voice lowered further, "We don't know what I am, exactly, but I can use this." The medallion seemed to purr under her touch like a cat long neglected of her attentions. She smiled a little at the sensation, "And the feather? I didn't see it happen, but I can _feel_ it, Hoggle. I feel like I can fly."

They stared at each other for a long moment, the only noise that of the four goblins noisily devouring their breakfast. Hoggle took a deep breath, and in a low, shaky voice he asked, "But you're still my friend, ain't ya?"

Sarah's smile widened, "Of course I am! What, you think that just because I find out I can use magic, I wouldn't want to be friends with you?"

He shrugged, his nose reddening and his eyes on the floor. "Well, I thoughts that if yous were all powerful like you'd have no times for folk like me."

Sarah leaned forward and pulled the dwarf into another hug. He stiffened but, after a moment, hugged her back, his hand patting her shoulder affectionately. She released him but held on to his shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes though she had to bend to do so. "No matter what happens, we'll always be friends. I've missed you."

Hoggle sighed, "I missed you too," he said, sounding almost grumpy about it. Then he smiled and his tone turned sly, "So did Jareth, if what I heard was true."

Sarah's interest piqued, "Oh?"

He snorted, "Stomping around the castle, spying on you with those damned crystals of his. He was always distracted." His chest swelled, "Which is why I's was able to go back to gardening along the village and the wall, instead of in that infernal bog."

She smiled, "Lucky you."

Jareth's hand touched her shoulder and Sarah looked up, still smiling. His eyes were on the dwarf. "Hogwart—"

"Hoggle." Sarah and the dwarf corrected in unison.

Jareth sighed, "Yes, well… Hoggle," he knelt so that the three of them were of the same height. "I want to ask if you'll stand with me. This merry band seems to look to you as a leader, and I will need their help to rally others to my cause before I proceed to the dueling field. Can you do that?"

Hoggle opened his mouth, and from his expression Sarah was sure he was going to argue, but instead he said, "I ain't no friend to Dionysus, sire. We'll help yous any ways we can to get that lily-livered bastard off the throne."

Jareth smiled and patted Hoggle's shoulder. "Good man. We may not always see eye to eye, but you are obviously close to my ladies heart." He gave a sly smile, "So I will try my utmost not to tip you head-first into the bog of eternal stench when you disobey me in the future."

Sarah gave him a playful swat on the leg and shared a conspiratorial smile with her friend. "I'll have you know that he's going to be a part of my life, so unless you want a stinky friend following you around—"

Hoggle gave a snort, "That's my Sarah."

####

Jareth stood, pulling Sarah up to stand beside him. Hoggle rose and waddled over so that they presented a unified group to the goblins. They had just begun to finish with their breakfast, flecks of egg on their tunics and grease staining their fingers.

When he spoke, he threaded a little power into his voice, so that it echoed impressively in the chamber. "Goblins," he paused while their eyes moved to him, mouths open as they beheld him and his group. "Your King has need of you. Attend."

The goblins scrambled to obey, knocking over plates and crockery in their haste. He could feel the stifled laughter Sarah held at bay, and he grasped her hand, giving it a slight squeeze. "Today we descend from this mountain to fight against Dionysus. I will call the usurper out in single combat for the right to the throne. I need all of you to gather up those who are loyal to me and bring them to the dueling field."

Azra licked his thin lips, "Sire, we's wanted criminals."

Hoggle stepped forward, "Listen," he growled. "Things will get worse without Jareth. Things weren't perfect when he was King, but he's fairer than that goblin upstart. He kept us safe and didn't try to poison us with miasma. We has a chance to make a difference tonight, and we's going to take it." He nodded, as though that settled that, and took a step back so he was in line with Jareth again.

He nodded, "None of you will be forgotten, whether I win my throne or no. Know this—if you help me now, I will grant you each a boon to be called upon whenever you desire, and that boon will be passed down to your children, grandchildren, and so on if you choose not to use it in your lifetime." The goblins took a collective breath, for Fae magic was a powerful thing and seldom gifted.

The goblins took a moment to mutter amongst themselves before Azra and the others spoke at once.

"We'll do it, Sire!"

"Dionysus's days are numbered!"

"I knows a few people in the sewers that could help…"

"All hail the true King!"

Hoggle lent his voice to theirs, his gruff tone cutting through the others. "All hail the King, and all hail the Queen."

Sarah jumped at that, but soon the goblins took up the call, their tiny voices morphed into rumbling basses by the walls of the cavern.

" _All hail the King_!"

" _All hail the Queen_!"

####

Jareth took Sarah aside for a moment while the goblins readied themselves to leave, "Sarah," he said, gaze fixed on her. "We must discuss what will happen if I lose this battle."

She sucked in a breath and looked away, "You're going to win."

"If I don't—"

"You _will_ ," she emphasized, her voice stubborn.

He smiled at that, _so different and so much the same._ "My love, please, listen to me. If I lose, I need you to leave the Underground and return to your own world." He swallowed hard, "There is something I have not yet… I cannot say much, but Faerie is—it is not safe for you if you're alone."

She frowned, "What do you mean?"

He shook his head, "I cannot say more, my love. The high queen would be displeased, and I have no wish to raise her ire. I promise you that we will talk about this matter later, but first," he touched the medallion at her throat, "I need your promise that you will go. The amulet will help you. You just need to say your right words."

She looked up at him, and her eyes danced with unshed tears, "I won't leave you," she said in a whisper, her voice hoarse and quivering.

He pulled her into an embrace, his hand fisted in her hair. She trembled like a leaf against him and his grip tightened, "And I will try my utmost," he murmured, "Not to leave you. But, please, promise me that you will go if I fall this night."

She clutched at his shirt, her nails biting into the skin of his back. After a few moments the shaking eased, and she nodded against him, "Alright. I promise." She stepped back and looked up into his eyes, "But you're going to win. I know you will."

He smiled at her and cupped her cheeks in his gloved hands, "I love you."

Sarah's lips trembled as she lifted them in a smile, "And I you."

They kissed, and Jareth tried not to jump as the hot sting of her tears reached his lips. _Oh, my Sarah,_ he thought, _I pray the gods are not so cruel to part us when we only just found each other again._

####

As night fell, the goblin city grew quiet. Whispers and rumors that had flown from lip to lip all day were conspicuous now in their absence. Dionysus paced the empty throne room, his heavy footfalls the only sound aside from the doleful cluck of a solitary chicken.

He heard someone approach and lifted his great head to behold Moira, bedecked in leather battle armor and with a look of serenity on her wide, scarred face. "My love," she rumbled. "What troubles you?"

He grimaced and motioned out the large windows that showed a view of the goblin city, "Can't you feel it? They're anticipating _his_ return, as though I don't know. I'll kill all of them."

"Not before Jareth arrives, I'm afraid," she tilted her head. "Perhaps we should call upon—"

"No," Dionysus snarled. "That creature has caused enough harm. It was _his_ idea that I make the seduction one of the conditions of Jareth's challenge, and _he_ who suggested I use the poison on Sarah. I will not have any more of his advice."

"You forget, my love," Moira said, taking a few steps toward him until she was close, but still out of striking distance. "His goals and yours are intertwined. Surely he will help you now when all could soon be lost." She smiled and stroked the hilt of her sword, "Not that I'm saying everything _will_ be lost. I shall spill blood before this night is done."

He growled, "What can he do? There is no trickery left. It is to be a fight now, and their possession of the artifacts gives them an advantage over us." _We are the stronger fighters,_ he thought _, but magic will turn the tables on us. It always does._ He had deposed Jareth through trickery once before, but this was different. This time, Dionysus would be alone.

"Not necessarily," cut in a cold, thin voice.

Dionysus turned and scowled at the cloaked and hooded figure standing beside the horned throne. The Fae trailed a thin, pale hand along the curved white tusk, looking all the world as though he belonged there. "You," Dionysus growled. "It was you that led us to this disaster. Jareth awoke the woman's power."

"Some of it, perhaps," the Fae said, his voice bland. "There were a few… unforeseen incidents. Surely you cannot blame me. I am not a seer."

Dionysus yelled and pulled one of his daggers free, "I would gut you now!"

The Fae held up a hand, and the dagger glowed hot. Dionysus held on for a long moment, his skin sizzling around the hilt of his weapon before he dropped it. "That was entirely unnecessary," the Fae said, his tone softly scolding. "I have come to help you."

Dionysus's hand screamed in pain, but he ignored it and spat on the floor between them, his lips pulled back to show his yellowed teeth. "And what could you possibly do now? _Now_ , that they're practically at the gates?"

He could not see the Fae through the shadows of his hood, but Dionysus would have sworn that the creature was smiling. "I'm here to grant you a boon."

The Fae waved a hand toward Dionysus and Moira. The chamber glowed with white-hot light.

A fierce, triumphant howl of laughter echoed out of the throne room and down over the goblin city.

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 **A/N:** BA BA BA BUUUUUUM!

Hey, I'm back on a daily upload. I consider chapter 13 to be yesterday even if it _was_ technically today. It was about two or three in the morning my time when I put it online. I was still awake, therefore it was still Thursday!

 **I have an announcement!**

There is a poll up on my profile page. **Please go vote** _ **.**_

I am a fair hand at art, and I've been positively itching to illustrate a part of 'The Return'. I have four scenes to choose from, ones that I know I would be able to do. Vote for your favorite and, in a later chapter, I will give you all the information to access the drawing. Should be fun, right? :)

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and, as always, if you liked it (or disliked it) let me know in the comments down below!

Cheers, lovelies.


	15. The Storm

**A/N:** Main authors note below!

Please **read and review** , and remember to **vote for the scene you would like illustrated.** The poll can be found on my main profile page.

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any of its characters. I do not profit from this story in any way.

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 **Chapter Fifteen**

 **'The Storm'**

"Why did you need them to gather your supporters?" Sarah asked softly, her hand in his.

They stood looking down at the dueling field, high on the parapets of the walls surrounding the goblin city. From here, they could see the tiny shapes of the goblins massing on either side of the dirt arena, and hear the excited voices rising on the night wind. Jareth took a deep breath through the nose, scenting the air. _Something is amiss_.

"The more of my loyal subjects, the more I can draw on my power as the rightful king," he said, voice soft. "They will help me win this."

"They did a good job of rounding them up—there must be thousands."

"More than that, hopefully. Word travels fast in the city."

Sarah looked up at him, and he could feel the trembling in her hand that belied her calm exterior. The medallion at her throat gleamed in the cool, bright moonlight. She was cleaning the Labyrinth, albeit subconsciously, the medallion tapping into her desires. The sky was clear, the stars and moon shining as they had long ago. Dionysus corruption had been scrubbed from the Labyrinth at last. "We have to go down there soon, don't we?"

He nodded, "The challenger presents himself first. It is the way these things are done."

She took a deep breath, and could not control the way it shook. Her fingers tightened painfully on his. She released him suddenly and threw herself into his arms, her head pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand cupping the back of her head and the other at the small of her back. "Don't you dare die on me," she whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the growing murmur from the goblin crowd. "I won't forgive you."

He could not help the smile that curved his lips. "I'll endeavor not to, precious." He bent and kissed her, his body responding to the taste and feel of her. He sighed and pulled away, running his hands through her hair. "There is something I must tell you before this begins."

"What is it?"

Jareth took a deep breath, dreading the words that he knew he must speak. _If I do not say this_ , he thought, _Dionysus will turn it against me_. The breath left him in a shuddering wave. "When we first came here, and Dionysus turned your world dark, he issued a final challenge that would make my way to this arena clear."

Sarah's eyes widened, " _What?_ Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped you."

He shook his head minutely, "Please, understand one thing." His hands tightened in her hair, cradling the back of her neck, and he kissed her, a brief brush of the lips. "I love you, my Sarah. I have wanted you by my side for years. What we share is more than I could have ever hoped for in my long life." He took another deep breath and steeled himself, "Dionysus challenged me to seduce you, in order to find the way to the castle clear."

She blinked rapidly and stepped back, "He said _what—_ you did… oh, gods—" Her expression hardened, "You _bastard_."

"Sarah, I—"

"You _used_ me!" She flung her arm out toward the arena and the gathering throng of spectators, "To get here, you used me!" Her face paled and her hands fisted at her sides, shaking. Jareth wanted to reach out for her, to reassure her, but he was afraid that if he touched her, he would only make things worse. "Of all the manipulative, self-serving, egotistical _bullshit_ ," Sarah raged, turning from him to kick at the stone parapet.

She screamed, and the sound echoed in the stone walkway. She whirled back to face him, her finger pointed accusingly. She opened her mouth to speak, her face flushed, but then stopped. Her eyes still narrowed, she took a deep breath, and then another. The moment seemed to stretch between them, her hard breaths coming more and more relaxed until she dropped her finger and stood straight, her hands coming to rest on her hips. She looked Jareth up and down and then said, her voice cool, "We're going to talk about this later. At _length_."

Jareth nodded, expression grim. She was taking it remarkably well, all things considered. His own mother would have probably brought a bolt of lightning down on his father if he had been guilty of a similar breach of trust. He waited until it appeared that she would not have anything further to add before he spoke, his voice measured and forcibly calm, "I would have told you before, but I was afraid that your knowledge would null the challenge. If events had not gone as they did, we would have never found our way here."

Sarah breath hitched. Tears made her already bright green eyes practically glow, and she pushed them roughly away, turning to look out at the dueling field. "I understand why you did what you did," she said, her voice so soft that he took a step toward her, straining to hear. "And I understand that it might not have worked if I had known." Her fingers tightened where they gripped the rough stone half-wall, her knuckles white. "That doesn't make it hurt any less."

He reached out, hesitated, and then placed a hand on her shoulder. When she did not shrug him off, he stepped closer, his body warming at its nearness to her. "I am sorry, Sarah. It was never my intention to cause you pain."

She looked up at him, and he could see where the tears had fallen to make tracks down her cheeks. She granted him a thin smile, "I _know_ you were making the best out of an impossible situation." She sighed and took a step closer, so that the lines of their bodies touched, "I still love you." She paused, and then added, "Ass."

He swallowed hard and leaned down to press his face into her hair, taking in the heady scent of her. He closed his eyes and blocked out the noise, only now letting his body feel the tremendous fear that he had only held back by a hairs breadth. _I thought she would desert me_ , he thought, and the old, familiar wave of loneliness receded by degrees.

He would have brought his entire kingdom down with Dionysus if the usurper had caused her to turn from him.

Sarah moved beneath him and stepped back enough to look up at him, "I wish you did not have to do this, and not just because I want to argue with you and know it's not the time."

He smiled, his lips thin, "As much as I look forward to the argument, I must do this, and the time to act is now. I am sorry, my love."

She nodded and withdrew, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Alright. Let's do this."

####

Sarah watched as the Goblin King bedecked himself in the dark, glittering armor that he had worn when she first met him. With each step that he took toward the dueling field, his face stiffened into the fierce, imperious mask that he had worn before. By the time his boot hit the dust of the dueling arena, it felt as though she were walking beside a stranger. A dangerous one.

The jubilant and terrified cries of the watching goblins engulfed them as soon as Jareth stepped from the shadows and into the moonlight, his ragged cloak flung out behind him. Sarah took a step back before he extended an arm to her, not turning to look as he did so. She hesitated for a moment before she reached out and took it, his leather-clad fingers closing over hers as he drew her forth. She stepped into the arena, feeling dwarfed by the stone seats that rose, at least, two hundred feet into the air on all sides. _It's like the coliseum,_ she thought, _is this how the gladiators felt when they began their own battles?_

The crowd bellowed, and the noise was so intense that Sarah's ears began to ring. She took in the crowd. _It looks like the entire kingdom_ , she marveled. There had to be at tens of thousands— _hundreds_ of thousands—of them packed into the stone seats, all of them on their feet and screaming. Her heart began to race, and Jareth's fingers tightened on hers minutely, the touch reassuring.

Distantly, she heard a familiar voice cry out a hail. She turned toward the noise and saw Hoggle and the band of refugee dwarfs on a bench fifty feet above them, their fists raised in the air and their mouths working in unison. It wasn't until others took up the cry that she understood what they were saying.

 _"The King!"_

 _"The Queen!"_

 _"The King! The Queen!"_

She felt her mouth go dry. Jareth tilted his head toward her minutely and his fingers made a slow, swirling motion over her wrist. She felt that same sensation she had felt at the beginning of her journey—cool water trickling over her—and knew as much as felt her clothing change. A heaviness settled over her head, and those shouting for 'the Queen' suddenly triumphed over the other cries.

Jareth had put her in an outfit that mirrored his own though there was no cloak around her shoulders. She could feel a high collar similar to his, and a jacket reinforced with overlapping plates of metal covered her from neck to waist. Her arms and legs were similarly clad, and long hunting boots covered her legs. Black metal grieves clung to her shins, vambrace's coated her upper and lower arms, and a pauldron was affixed to both shoulders. She reached up to touch the weight that had settled on her head—her movements fluid despite the heavy, unfamiliar weight of the armor—and found a circlet of cool metal—a crown.

Sarah arched a brow at Jareth, "Grandstanding much?"

He gave a tiny smile, only enough so that she could see. "A show of unification, love. Many of them still see you as my conqueror."

Sarah almost laughed, but the sound halted as Dionysus entered the field.

####

Jareth dropped Sarah's hand and took a step forward, his lips parted. _No_ , he thought, _no, no, no, this cannot be._

It was Dionysus, there was no mistaking that face changed though it was, but where the goblin had been days before there now stood a tall and imposing Fae warrior.

Sarah moved to his side and asked, as quietly as she could manage over the din, "What happened to him?"

 _This cannot be,_ he repeated to himself, _I had until moon fall._ He could feel the fine hairs on the back of his neck raise, and he reached out for Sarah blind, his hand coming to rest on her arm. "The tables have turned, my love," he murmured, unsure if his words would reach her ears. "Someone has meddled."

Dionysus grinned, and even from a distance Jareth could see that his teeth gleamed white and straight. Though he retained the scars he had won as a goblin, there was a tall, lean grace to the creature now, and an unmistakable wave of power rolled off of him.

And then Dionysus reached behind him, echoing Jareth's movements from moments before, and pulled Moira into the light.

The consort was taller than her mate, and her hips swayed seductively as she moved into the arena, her fingers playing with the hilt of one of the long swords at her hip. She smiled when the spectators roared their approval, the previous cries for the king and queen dying amongst those in supporter of the rebel leaders.

Jareth set his jaw and strode forward, Sarah following in his wake. He saw that she tried to mirror his movements and that her face was outwardly calm, cool. A flush of pride at her ability to appear unfazed in this chaotic mess chased some of his shock away. He reined in his emotions as he stopped midway down the dueling field.

He took in two long, deep breaths before he spoke, drawing slightly from the power of the supporters at his back. "Dionysus," he called, the words reverberating around the stadium and causing a wave of quiet through the watching goblin horde. "I have completed the challenges you laid before me."

He drew in another breath and poured more power into his words until the very stones seemed to vibrate. "I have come to reclaim what is _rightfully mine."_ The last words he spoke were in a scream, and the goblins quailed, the stones shaking beneath their feet.

But then the stands erupted in sudden, explosive noise. He could feel the hearts and minds of those loyal to him, and he gathered that power, spindling it within himself to use later.

Dionysus smiled and raised his hands. When he spoke, there was no surge of power, but his words brought the Goblins to heel. Through his connection to them, Jareth could feel that they were silenced out of fear—not respect, or loyalty, but base fear. He ground his teeth, _he will pay for what he's done to you._ "Jareth," Dionysus said, his voice almost gentle. "I do not believe you remember your history."

The usurper released the hand of his concubine and raised both arms in the air, and his voice rang out. "Your _loyal_ _subjects_ have called Sarah your queen!" His eyes glittered, and his tone lowered, as though to confide though it reached the ears of every goblin assembled. "And you have claimed her."

Jareth gave a hard shake of his head, "We are not bonded."

The Fae-Goblin shrugged, "It's only a matter of time, oh King. She is called your equal by your subjects, possesses half of the artifacts sent out by the Labyrinth _and_ is sharing your bed. Under _Fae_ rules," he put an emphasis on the word and brought a hand to his chest, including himself. "She is your equal, just as Moira is mine."

Jareth felt as though the blood froze in his veins. Sarah pressed against him, but he did not dare look down at her. It would be unwise to turn away from his enemy, or to show even a hint of weakness. He gave her arm a soft squeeze. "She has not formally challenged you."

" _No,_ " Moira purred, and stepped forward, her hard eyes glittering with anticipation. "I challenge _her_."

####

Even as Moira spoke her words of challenge, Sarah's head was reeling. _They look like him_ , she thought, and they did. Though they were battle scarred and had an air of menace around them that was nothing like she had felt around Jareth, they were like him. He had said something to that extent though she could barely register his words at the time through the shock of the pair's appearance and the roar of the crowd.

Jareth pulled her close to him, his hand moving over the hard plates of metal on her back, the touch barely felt beneath. "I am sorry, love."

Sarah gritted her teeth and stared hard at the Goblin-Fae ahead of her, the creature's languid smile disconcerting. _I won't let you get to me_ , she thought savagely. "It's okay," she said and was surprised at how calm her voice sounded. The goblins were quiet, and her words echoed in the vast space. "I will fight beside you," she lifted her chin and raised her voice. "I accept your challenge."

Jareth took in a sharp hiss of breath, and she could swear that she could feel the fear coming off of him. She took his hand in hers and squeezed hard, then murmured, "I will fight beside you and _for_ you, my love."

####

The officiator entered the arena shortly after the combatants had withdrawn to their respective ends of the field. Jareth had time only to murmur a few words of caution to Sarah before they had to face their opponents. At her insistence, he used his magic to take away her crown and pull her hair back into a tight braid so that she was not blinded by it during the fight. Sarah had some new blades at her disposal, and he reminded her that the power of the amulet was not to be taken out of consideration.

"Use whatever tools you have, and trust your instincts," he had told her. "Moira is one of the most deadly creatures I've had the ill luck to come across. She is ruthless and she will press your inexperience to her advantage."

He did not know what other skills they may, with their new-found Fae magic, possess. The thought made his skin grow cold. Before he could say more, the officiator called for their presence. He reached out and brought Sarah to him, pressing his lips to hers in a fierce, hard kiss. "If I fall, you must leave, damn the duel. Just go."

Sarah did not have time to respond before they had to be back in the arena. The noise of the crowd was such that talking was impossible.

The officiator, an old wizened goblin with a hunched back and rags hanging loosely from his slumped shoulders, peered at each pairing in turn. "You fight," he said in a surprisingly strong voice. "For the right to rule the goblin kingdom, as set down in the charter of the Labyrinth at its conception," he raised a blood-red cloth over his head. "Begin when the mark hits the dueling arena."

Jareth had eyes only for Dionysus, who still wore a sickening smile on his broad, scarred face. He could see Moira leer at Sarah out of the corner of his eye, and felt his lady stiffen by his side. He drew his sword, echoed a moment later by the other three. In his other hand, he conjured a crystal, filling its depths with the stuff of nightmares.

The officiator looked between them once more. "To the victor," he called and released the cloth. "Go the spoils!"

The cloth drifted toward the ground.

They began.

####

Moira rushed her, the movement almost too fast for Sarah to see. She barely brought her sword up before the Goblin-Fae's came crashing down, sparks flying in the dim moonlight.

Moira smiled, her teeth pointed and bright as pearls. "You're not the only one with tricks now, Baby Fae," she purred. Her sword swung around, almost dislodging Sarah's from her grip. She danced backward, boots hard on the dusty ground, and blocked another, almost lazy, strike.

The Goblin-Fae stalked toward her, smile wide, "What's the matter, little Sarah? Did you think a few words would set you free this time?" Her smiled widened still further, "Did you think your _love_ would save you from this fight?"

Moira yelled and lunged again. When Sarah blocked, the woman punched her in the gut, the impact shocking even through her layers of armor. With the wind knocked out of her, Sarah almost did not deflect the swift roundhouse kick aimed at her temple. She stumbled back and barely managed to keep from falling, her feet scrabbling for purchase on the hard-packed earth.

Already, sweat was beading on her forehead and threatening to wash into her eyes. She gritted her teeth and touched the medallion at her throat—not with her hands, but with her mind, mentally reaching out for the power that it lent her.

The ground beneath Moira buckled and threw her aloft. The Goblin-Fae's eyes widened in surprise, but she managed to turn her free-fall into a graceful landing, her yellow eyes glowing cat-like from a wide-legged stance fifteen feet away.

" _Tsk, tsk_ ," she said. "Magic already?" She stood and extended her hand toward Sarah, and a ball of crackling purple lightning appeared there, the sparks flowing up her arms and lending a ghostly cast to her pale face. "Two can play at that game, _precious_."

Sarah dodged the hurled lightning ball, but only just. It grazed one of her legs, and the entire limb went numb. She managed a controlled fall, but when she tried to push upward her leg would not respond, buckling beneath her. She remained half-crouched on the ground as Moira approached again, her strides exaggeratingly slow.

Sarah took a moment to flick her eyes over and see how Jareth was doing, but the wall of light and noise that erupted from their side of the arena effectively blinded her. When she turned her gaze back to Moira, spots danced before her eyes. Gritting her teeth, she drew on the strength of the amulet once more, and the sensation of numbness vanished from her leg though she did not rise. _If she wants to play with me like a cat with a bird, fine,_ she thought, _I'll play along_.

At this, Sarah felt a sudden eruption of gooseflesh crawl down her arm. She glanced down, and what she saw almost made her break position. Tiny feathers covered the back of her hand, and her nails were thick, long, and curved. When she lifted her eyes away from the sight, Moira stood out in clear relief, her body and the surroundings almost entirely washed of color but as clear to her as though the sun shone above.

Moira stopped just outside striking distance and slowly drew a short dagger, its pommel decorated with opals and wrought in silver. She raised the blade to her mouth and licked the edge, the blood drawn from her tongue darkening the blade. Her eyes glittered menacingly, "I bet you'll taste sweet, Baby Fae."

Moira raised her dagger, and her feet shifted forward at the moment before her lunge. Sarah rolled into her, the momentum toppling the Goblin-Fae so that she crumbled in an ungraceful heap, the dagger skittering out of her hand. Sarah recovered first and slashed out with her sword, striking Moira across the cheek and drawing a long, red line that quickly washed the woman's jaw crimson.

"You're right," Sarah said, her voice cool. "Two _can_ play that game."

The woman hissed at her, fangs bared, "That's the last blood you will see of mine."

Sarah smiled and heard the roar of the crowd reaching out for her. Where it had been off settling before, she felt it buoy her now, the collective energies of the watchers washing over and through her. "We'll see," she taunted, raising her sword in a mock salute.

Moira's hand moved so fast it was a blur. One moment she was rising, her hand over her leather-armored chest, and the next the same hand flicked out. Sarah only had time to widen her eyes when she saw the tell-tale glint of steel before the little knife struck her, three-inch blade buried into her shoulder. She yanked it out but, in the moment it took her to do so, Moira had closed in on her and thrown her to the ground.

The Goblin-Fae snarled, her breath hot and stinking of blood and meat. Her hand clawed down Sarah's cheek, and she felt warm liquid trickle down into her hair, accompanied by a burning pain. Sarah slashed out with her own lengthened, viciously sharp nails and felt the thick leather at Moira's side part. The woman's eyes widened in the same instant she brought her strong lean hand down to bear on Sarah's throat.

Moira pinned her, larger and heavier than Sarah could easily throw off. She reached down with her free hand and ripped several of the armored plates off of Sarah's chest, the metal clinking as it flew away from them. Her head was spinning as the Goblin-Fae pressed further down on her neck, and spots began to appear at the edge of her vision. Sarah fumbled for one of the knives strapped to her leg, willing her nails short to make the work easier, and brought her knee up at the same moment, hitting Moira's ribs with as much force as she could muster. The woman grunted, then smiled and pressed down, her breath hot on Sarah's face. "I wish I could keep you, little bird." She licked Sarah's cheek, her tongue like sandpaper. Sarah let out a scream and plunged the knife she had freed into Moira's unarmored side.

The woman's body gave a sharp spasm, releasing her grip on Sarah's throat and jolting enough so that she could roll out from under her, pushing herself off the ground and trying to ignore the sharp, throbbing pain in her shoulder. She took several deep, gasping breaths, her throat burning with the pressure of Moira's choking hold. A concussive roar erupted behind her, where Jareth and Dionysus fought, but Sarah could not turn her attention away from the creature before her for an instant. She knew better than that now.

Sarah had lost her first sword in the attack and now drew her backup. All that remained to her now was the original black-diamond dagger and about a half-dozen small knives. She did not want to face Moira with a close-range weapon if she could help it, and so she tightened her grip on the hilt of the sword and lurched forward, bringing it down to bear on the back of Moira's neck.

Moira reached up and caught the blade with her bare hand, teeth bared in a snarl.

Two of her fingers went flying, but the Goblin-Fae only smiled, her tongue darting out to lick blood from her lips, and twisted the blade, flinging it away from her. Sarah managed to keep a hold of it, but only just. Moira rose to her full height and drew her own long sword. "Oh, you pretty thing," she murmured. "You don't think you'd fell me that easily, did you?"

Moira attacked with a fervor that Sarah found wholly unexpected in one who had two fingers missing and a large wound in their abdomen. Her blade blurred with each striking cut, and it was all Sarah could do to hold her off. The woman was stronger than her, faster than her, and _far_ better than her at swordcraft. What Sarah suspected before was bare fact now—Moira _had_ been toying with her. The Goblin-Fae seemed to draw from an unlimited pool of strength and speed, even as Sarah felt her own limbs begin to shake in fatigue and pain. With a howl, Moira's sword suddenly erupted in white-blue flame, and Sarah had to squint her eyes against the sudden flare of bright, hot light.

Sarah had time enough to regret not taking Jareth up on his offer to teach her better skills with a blade when the pommel of Moira's weapon came crashing down on her head, and the world erupted in dark stars.

Her sword was yanked away as a fist impacted on the unarmored part of her torso. Sarah heard the sickening _crack-pop_ as her ribs broke, and suddenly it was agony to draw breath. Instinctively she curled around the injury. Another blow landed on the back of her head, this one sending her sprawling face first into the dirt, and her vision clouded with dizzying pain.

She saw boots and the tip of the glowing sword as the creature paced around her, and faintly heard through ringing ears the low bubbling chuckle that rose from Moira's lips. She drew back her heel and kicked Sarah half-heartedly in the knee, as though she was an annoying dog, and Sarah grunted at the new burst of pain.

The goblins were silent, but Sarah could still feel them. They crowded in her thoughts. Without understanding how, she reached out toward them, the medallion burning hot where it rested between her armor and bare skin. The pain left her though she could still sense her injuries. Strength flowed through her limbs, and on its heels, there came a calm, certain understanding of what had to be done. Sarah remained limp and hoped that Moira would not realize what was happening. _Can she sense them as well?_

The Goblin-Fae reached down and grasped Sarah by her braid, pulling her head up and exposing the curve of her neck. She held the blade to her throat, the metal sharp, cold and burning in the same instant. "Any words you wish me to convey to your lover before I slip the sword stained with your blood between his ribs?"

Sarah rolled her eyes up, meeting Moira's gaze. They looked at one another and though the moment was short, Sarah had enough time to feel the rage boiling up inside of her. This creature was going to kill her, kill Jareth, and lay waste to the Goblin Kingdom if she were not stopped here, now. _You have to be stopped._ "Yes," Sarah wheezed, her hand skipping out to land on Moira's booted foot.

The Goblin-Fae bent closer, the blade pressing hard until Sarah could feel rivulets of blood running down her throat, burning numbness from Moira's magic following close on its heels. The woman practically purred, satisfaction and the knowledge of victory shining in her eyes. "What is it, _precious_?"

Sarah could not help the smile that curled her lips as she pooled the power she had gathered from the goblins into the hand that lay atop her adversary. "Go to hell."

A fire hotter than any furnace shot out of Sarah's open palm and slammed into Moira, licking up her body as though it were dry kindling. The woman screamed and stumbled back, releasing her hold, the sword skidding shallowly across half of Sarah's exposed neck. The magically conjured flames burned white-hot, the heat blasting out at Sarah as thought she stood next to a blacksmith's forge.

Moira did not scream long.

Sarah stood over the charred remains of the Goblin-Fae, her stomach roiling and wet, sticky blood coating her neck and chest. The scent of burnt flesh was heavy in her nose, choking in its intensity, but she could not look away. The urge to retch rose in her, at the same moment as a half-panicked thought made her swallow hard. _I cannot show weakness in front of them_.

The goblin spectators were in a frenzied crescendo of noise. She could only imagine how she appeared to them—her chest heaving, and blood coating her face and neck. _Do they like what they see?_ She wondered, _is this what they want in a ruler?_ Sarah's head slowly lifted to them. At her gaze, they began chanting.

" _Queen!"_

" _Queen!"_

" _Queen!"_

She shook herself and turned to the other battle, her heart in her throat.

####

Distantly, Jareth heard the chanting cry of his subjects, and his lips curled into a smile. He could feel Sarah's eyes on him, and knew that she had won her fight. Goblins followed the strong, the victorious, and now they followed her.

But while he wished to turn to her, to show his support and his fierce satisfaction in the woman who would be his queen, he still had his own battle to win.

Dionysus had proven to be an enemy worthy of the title. Within an instant of beginning the duel, he had created ten versions of himself, using them to surround Jareth and rush him at once. While the doppelgangers did not share in the full strength of Dionysus, or his newfound ability to do magic, they had been formidable opponents. As he smashed his way through them, the creatures shattered like ceramic casts, making the terrain sharp and dangerous.

Twice, Jareth had thought that he was done for. The first had occurred shortly after he had summoned a crystal illusion to cloak the usurper in a choking cloud of fear and darkness, and the other was when they had engaged their swords for the second time.

Dionysus managed to cut his way out of the illusion before Jareth had calculated he would be able to, and his massive gauntleted fist had slammed into Jareth's temple with the force of a battering ram. He had staggered and almost gone down to one knee but managed to keep his feet and step lithely away to avoid further fisticuffs.

The second time, Dionysus had proven both his mettle in the art of sword duels and his vicious manipulation of his new-found magic. Jareth had just caught a high stroke upon his upturned blade when Dionysus thrust his hand palm-out toward Jareth and let out a blast of pure, concussive energies.

Jareth had only seen such moves demonstrated by the young and the incompetent among his race. A pure outpouring of power was a dangerous business, something that was just as likely to kill the conjurer as their enemy since the source of the magic came from the Fae's own internal reserves. Tapping into those reserves too suddenly or with too much force could cause an overload, effectively burning the creature from the inside out.

This had, unfortunately, not been the case for Dionysus, though his movements were now slow and beginning to falter. Jareth's left side was burned and blackened where his armor had melted into the skin, and while he did not have full control of that sword arm, he could manage to block most of Dionysus's further attacks by presenting himself at an angle, right side to his foe.

Jareth knew, from his centuries of experience, that the fight was drawing to a close. Dionysus panted, his reserves almost tapped, and while Jareth did not feel as strong as he had at the beginning of the battle, he still had a good amount of his own power squirreled away.

Sarah came to the edge of Jareth's vision, her neck scarlet with blood and her hair ripped partly free of its braid. He noted that she seemed to be favoring one side, even though she gave no outward expression of pain, and he felt a burning sense of pride in his mate. She held a dagger in each hand, her posture wary, tense, and her eyes all for Dionysus. Jareth's lips curled still further, teeth bared in a snarl, and put an extra burst of speed into his next attack.

Dionysus's eyes widened. He blocked, but as he did so his gaze fell on the other side of the arena, taking in Sarah's proximity and, presumably, the fallen form of his concubine. Whatever he saw sparked rage deep within his beetle-black eyes, but the moment had taken too long, and Jareth found his opening.

He slid the blade of his sword past Dionysus' guard, and straight through the thick leather armor, burying the sword to the hilt in the usurpers belly. Jareth's other arm raised and though weakened, was still able to drive the point of his dagger up into the Goblin-Fae's throat.

Dionysus gave a grunt, blood foaming at his lips, and staggered back, his hands going to the sword still trapped in his abdomen. Jareth followed him, and Sarah came to his side, her blades naked in her hands. He felt the smile widen on his face, "You played a dangerous game and lost, Dionysus."

Dionysus pulled the weapon from his stomach, effectively gutting himself, and snarled, voice strangled and wet, "Not yet." His palms spread out toward the ground, blood dripping from the various wounds and cuts Jareth had landed during their battle to pool beneath him.

The ground split underneath Dionysus and fell inward. One moment he stood before them, gutted and bleeding, his face set in a wash of red and snarling concentration, and the next he was falling straight down. Jareth felt a sense of vertigo the moment before the ground beneath his feet dropped, following the course of the last magic Dionysus had wrought.

Sarah's blades fell glittering into the waterfall of rock and dirt, and he felt her clasp his arm and pull with a strength he did not know she possessed. He heard her cry out, but the disorientation of the fall made her position difficult to ascertain.

Jareth looked down into the seemingly bottomless pit, and then up to where Sarah held him, her face scarlet with the strain. She was lying down, and he could feel through their touch that she had pulled the earth up in front of her knees to brace herself. He reached up to haul himself back toward her when one hand slipped, pulling her a little further over the edge.

It happened before he could blink. The hand that slipped out of hers, slick with blood and sweat, came free of its glove. Momentum and his instincts of self-preservation brought the arm swinging back upward.

Sarah grasped his hand in hers, their bare skin striking with the force of a thunderclap.

Jareth's eyes widened as the bond took hold. He could feel her heart, not through his fingertips as before, but as though it beat next to his own. All of her injuries, her feelings, her thoughts flooded through him in a moment of infinite complexities and wonder. The fated strings of their lives knotted around one another, and every piece of power they possessed split and multiplied, filling them both within a moment that lasted the space of a heartbeat and the length of millennia.

Sarah's eyes glowed, their depths swimming with a thousand different colors, her lips parted. Her fingers seized around him.

They stared at each other for several shared heartbeats, and he saw her eyes change. He had seen the bonded before and knew that his echoed hers, the colors swirling until they matched perfectly with her own, green on blue.

He came wholly back to himself with a gasp and used their grasped hands to lift until he could pull up on the ledge of the pit and haul himself free. He rolled away from the edge, pulling Sarah with him, and they half-collapsed onto the dirt of the arena to the echoing roar of the goblins, all chanting for the King and Queen.

####

Sarah could hold back the pain of her injuries no longer. With the first concussive wave of sound from the goblins her slashed cheek, cut throat, throbbing head, injured shoulder, and broken ribs cried out along with a myriad of other, smaller injuries. She let out a little gasp and tried to move her arms, but at some point while she kept Jareth from falling into the pit she had torn something, and they did not respond to her commands.

She could feel him, not just from where she lay against him, but through what she knew to be the bond—the very presence of his power and mind within her own. He reached out through that connection, tentatively at first, and then with greater confidence. She felt him draw on the power of the amulet, sending it out into her body to see to her hurts. With the release of pain came whole-body exhaustion, so overwhelming that she almost shut her eyes and slept where she lay.

There was something else, too. A large, vague impression that pressed at the back of her mind. It felt somehow wounded, but she could also sense it was… happy. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized what it was. _The Labyrinth._

Jareth pulled away from her, both in mind and body, and grasped her hand with his own. His bare fingers were strange compared to how she had felt him all those times before, the fingers thin, tapered, beautiful, and somehow fragile-looking compared to the rest of him, even though she could feel their inherent strength. She looked at him and saw that his eyes had changed—one was a vivid green like her own, and the other a penetrating ice blue.

She let him pull her to her feet, and for the first time, their bare fingers laced together, sharing in the warmth of one another.

Jareth raised their interlocked hands into the air, and the goblins roared their approval. Sarah raised her eyes and her heart skipped as she saw the huge, hairy form of Ludo in the crowd, Sir Didymus perched on one wide shaggy shoulder. A smile spread across her face and she looked over at the rightful king. She knew that he could not hear her over the din, but she tried anyway, "We did it."

Jareth smiled down at her, but suddenly his expression changed, the color draining from his face.

####

The Fae had warped the light around himself so that he remained effectively invisible, but the veil fell as he moved in to strike. Jareth had just enough time to see the tall, hooded figure reach for Sarah. It all happened too fast for him to stop.

Long, white fingers reached for her head, gripping her temples between large palms. The hooded Fae turned to Jareth, and he heard a voice hiss out at him even through the roar of the goblins. " _You haven't won yet._ "

Those long, thin fingers sank into Sarah's skull, buried to the knuckle. Sarah screamed, her head falling back against the hooded stranger, and her hand ripped from Jareth's. He felt a streak of agony flash through their bond, echoed within his own mind before the world exploded in light and noise.

Jareth raised an arm to shield against the glare and reached out to the hooded Fae, his eyes closed against the sudden brightness. His fingers passed through open air. It was only a second, but when he opened his eyes the stranger was gone—and so was his Queen.

####

Sarah woke, her face pressed into the scratchy carpet. She blinked and sat up, her gaze sweeping around the empty living room. _The Art of French Cooking_ sat on the glass coffee table, little tags of yellow and pink notes sticking out at odd angles.

She rubbed her head, and stood, dizzy for a moment as a sharp pain lanced through her skull. "Oh, _gods_ , what happened?"

 _The doorbell_ , Sarah thought to herself, _I was getting up to get the doorbell_. She massaged her temples and staggered over to the door, peering through the peephole, and frowned when there was no one or nothing in sight.

"Strange," Sarah said aloud. "I could have sworn there had been someone there."

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 **A/N:** Musical inspiration for this chapter goes to Snow Patrol's "What if This Storm Ends?" On repeat… for, like, a thousand times. Also, the YouTube video is freaking hypnotic (well, one of them is… the one with the origami stars and flowers in the still shot). Got me in the ZONE. Again, highly recommended and GO WATCH/LISTEN TO IT NOW.

(apologies, all these songs are new music I've discovered while writing this story, which is why I'm getting rather passionate)

This chapter is almost twice as long as my longest so far. I briefly toyed with the idea of splitting it into two parts but I figured I would anger all of you darlings if I did that. See, I'm a nice person. Most of the time.

This is NOT the end of the story. There are at least three, maybe more like five or six, chapters to come.

Please remember to **review & vote** (poll is up on my profile page). I want to hear from you!

Cheers, lovelies, and happy weekend.


	16. The Empty Throne

**A/N:** Main authors note below!

Please **read and review** , and remember to **vote for the scene you would like illustrated.** The poll can be found on my main profile page and will close on Friday, September 18th.

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any of its characters. I do not profit from this story in any way.

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 **Chapter Sixteen**

 **'The Empty Throne'**

The castle beyond the goblin city was an island of quiet in an ocean of celebratory masses. Jareth paced up and down his solar, a feeling of yawning emptiness where his connection with Sarah should have been. For the first time in his life, he wore no gloves on his hands, and the air against his bare skin felt cool, almost cold. He looked down at them, his fingers spread wide and his palms bare. A faint line circled his left pointer finger, thin as a strand of hair.

He closed his hands into fists and continued pacing.

There was a hesitant knock on the doorway and Jareth turned, biting back a snarl when he saw the figures of Hoggle and Sir Didymus. He forced himself to relax, and felt the mantle of his station fall over him, calming in its familiarity. The dwarf's eyes hardened and he opened his mouth to say something, but the Knight beat him to it, "Sire, where be our fair queen?"

His palm began to sting, and distantly Jareth realized that his nails were biting into the flesh. He took a deep breath, "Did you pass the throne room on the way here, Sir Didymus?"

"Of course, sire."

Jareth looked away from them and saw the throne room in his mind's eye. It had been the first sight that caught his attention upon reentering his castle. The great horned throne, so long alone on its dais, now sat paired with another. The Labyrinth, a gentle, enormous presence that even now sat at the back of his mind, had brought the ancient seat forth in preparation for its queen. He could feel its confusion and worry even now, the emotions nebulous but insistent at his temples. It wanted to find her, just as he did.

Jareth shook his head and pushed back against the Labyrinth, trying to sooth it even while his own mind whirled, frantic. "I don't know where she is," he said, trying to keep his voice level and calm. "I do not know what has become of her."

Hoggle and the knight had stepped into the room, close to him now as though they, too, sensed his distressed, or at the very least shared in it. "She's back in the Aboveground, ain't she?" Hoggle asked.

"I do not know," he conjured a crystal and tossed it to the dwarf, who caught it on reflex and then held it at arm's length, eyes wide. "Look within. You may have more luck than I."

Hoggle turned the crystal in his palm and glared at its depths for a long moment. Sir Didymus peered at it over his shoulder, a paw on his friend's arm for balance. Jareth tried to quell the hope that rose up in him, but he wondered… perhaps they would succeed where he had failed.

The dwarf waddled up to him and held out the crystal with a slow shake of his head, "I don't see nothing."

Jareth sighed and plucked the crystal from his fingers, letting it roll on the back of his hand and disappear. He stalked away from them, folding his hands behind his back, and resumed his pacing. The pair pressed their heads together and conferred in silent whispers, the noise of their private counsel drowned by the continued celebratory noises of the goblin citizens.

"Sire," Sir Didymus spoke, his voice grave. "We will endeavor to find her. I pledge on my life's blood, we will not rest until our lady is restored to us."

The Labyrinth seemed to smile at the words of the little knight, and Jareth found an echo of it curl his own lips. "Thank you, brave knight. Along your travels, find out what you can of the hooded Fae and his role in this—I am certain he had a hand to play in the rebellion."

Hoggle snorted and muttered, almost too low to hear, "We'll find Sarah, not—"

"Of course, sire," the knight interrupted, casting a dark look at his companion. "If we uncover any word of the treacherous worm we will hasten to you with word."

Jareth gave a curt nod, "That will be all."

The pair left him.

Jareth reached out for the bond and found it empty. It was as though a part of him had been torn away though he could still feel the edges in his mind. The Labyrinth, satisfied for the moment, was silent, and he was grateful for its presence. _At least I am not wholly alone._

He paced.

The celebrations went on through the night and well into the morning. Now they were beginning to get on Jareth's nerves, and the household goblins made themselves scarce. They had long ago learned to recognize when Jareth was in one of his dark moods. He was left alone.

He walked over to the mirror for the hundredth time, lifted an arm to touch its surface, and then fisted his hands and withdrew. He conjured one of his crystals and willed it to find Sarah, but the crystal remained stubbornly blank, as it had the last time he had requested it to do so… and all the times before.

A roaring bang shattered the otherwise low-level noise of the goblin revelers and Jareth jumped, crossing to the window to gaze out over the city. He scowled. The goblins were setting off cannons, packing their brethren into metal balls that went zipping around the city to cause no end of trouble. _Just like the last time she was here_ , he thought, _they can't seem to help themselves._

Granted, the goblins who resided within the city were not the brightest of his subjects, with few exceptions. His warrior caste, the group from which Dionysus had emerged, were absent from the revelers, but they had always been a self-contained and intelligent lot. Each one of them who had come to the duel had silently nodded toward their king before leaving the arena for the deeps. While their allegiance had shifted back to Jareth and, by extension, Sarah, the Goblin King knew he would have to take a greater role in their governance. He had to ensure the safety of his kinghood and, by extension, his kingdom.

He shook his head, baring his teeth in frustration. He could not help but think about his people and his kingdom, now that it was officially back in his control, but he felt a haze of guilt for doing so. He wanted to find Sarah, to bring her back, but there was nothing that he could do. He was locked here, in this kingdom. He could not leave now that he had only just reclaimed his throne. _Our throne_ , he corrected himself, thinking again of the empty chair that now rested beside his own.

He turned away from the window overlooking the goblin city and gazed at the mirror. It was an understated thing, with a plain wooden frame and an antiqued finish, but he was afraid of what it contained. It could damn him or save him at this point. He never really knew when it came to family.

He clenched his fists at his sides and walked across the room, his boots clacking on the smooth flagstones. He stopped close enough to the mirror that his breath fogged its surface and, without giving himself the time to hesitate, thrust his bare hand forward and pressed it against the warm surface, his palm sinking into it until his fingers were lost in silver. "Kabira," he called voice ringing in the empty stone chamber. "Your son has need of you."

Jareth stepped back, warmth clinging to his fingers, and as he did so the surface of the mirror rippled like still water that had been disturbed by the drop of a pebble. A misty form appeared in its depths, small at first but, as it grew larger, becoming more distinct.

Kabira, elder Fae and advisor to none other than High Queen Titania and her husband Oberon, stepped through the mirror, shaking her skirts as she did so. Tall and haughty, with a slender white neck and the distinctive upswept colored eyelids of Fae royalty, Kabira somehow managed to look down her nose at Jareth while remaining of a height with him. He could not help a thin smile, "Mother."

"My son," she replied, voice clipped and cool. "I see the reports of your demise were unfounded."

"I take it you were not overly concerned?"

She sniffed, "Hardly. As though you would be felled by a mere goblin," she peered at him, and her eyes widened fractionally. "You bonded," she stated in her same cool, flat voice.

Jareth nodded, "To Sarah."

Kabira raised a perfectly arched brow, "The mortal woman who bested you? Really, Jareth… and I thought you couldn't be more of a disappointment."

He swallowed the urge to grind his teeth. While he and his mother had been close for the first two hundred-odd years of his life, she had been disappointed when he sought the position of Goblin King. Ever since his coronation, their relationship had held an edge of hostility. As her only son, she felt his choices reflected poorly on her, but it would not help matters to renew a centuries old fight.

"Not mortal after all, mother. Whatever Sarah is, she is able to harness the magic of the Underground, and she reacted to the poison _Amaranthium-Elixis_."

His mother blinked, "Well, that's surprising." She waved a hand, as though dismissing the conversation entirely, "But you did not call me here so that I could congratulate you. You want something. What is it?"

"As you may have noted, she is not here. After I won the duel against the usurper, an unknown Fae took her from the Underground—to where, I am not sure. I have been unable to track her using the crystals, and I am incapable of returning to the Aboveground at present to search for her there."

"Seeing as you have not been summoned to snatch away a mewling infant," Kabira added, a wry tone in her voice. "Not to say that Her Majesty is disappointed with the children, of course. She was glad to hear of your return to power, for she could always use another darling." She tilted her head, "And how, pray tell, did you return to the mortal world after you were deposed? We have had no notion of your whereabouts until recently."

"I was in the between place," he answered shortly. "And I used Sarah as an anchor to pull me Aboveground."

"Hm," Kabira sniffed. "So you _do_ remember some of what I taught you. I had wondered."

"Mother," Jareth snapped. "I need your aid and that of the high king and queen. I recognize that we have had our differences in the past, but the stability of my realm and, possibly, greater considerations are at play here. I believe that my unknown enemy may have plans that could be of considerable consequence. I ask that you assist me."

Kabira smoothed her hand over the jeweled bodice of her gown and cast a disdainful look at her surroundings. "While you do rule the goblins, there are larger and wealthier kingdoms that could be targeted. What makes you think that someone plans something using _yours_ as leverage?"

"You know as well as I, mother, that the goblins are formidable adversaries. Whosoever controls them can turn the tide of battle from one side to the other within moments. It is only through years of political maneuvering and my loyalty to the crown that the horde has not been released against any of the neighboring countries. But," he added, tone softening. "If someone with fewer scruples were to sit the horned throne, matters could change entirely. The kingdoms would fall like dominos, leading to the Summerland."

He could not threaten the leading monarchy directly, but he _could_ state a fact. The Summerland was not the mighty power it had been in centuries past. Many believed that the sun would set on Faerie entirely within another few mortal generations, as the mortals to whom they had bound their magic slowly lost faith in the Fae. Jareth stood stronger than many, as his capacity as Goblin King lead him into direct contact with the mortals above, and his army was the greatest in all of Faerie.

Kabira regarded him for a long moment and, when she spoke, there was a dangerous edge to her voice. "Am I to understand that you just threatened the High Seat of Summer, dearest son?"

He bared his teeth in a smile, "Surely you do not think I would threaten the royal persons, mother mine?" To do so would make him guilty of high treason, punishable by a long, tortuous death. He had said what needed to be said.

His mother's eyes closed and she took in a deep breath through her nose. When she opened them, the familiar calm had fallen over her once again. "What would you ask of us, Goblin King?"

"Find my queen. Find the creature responsible for her departure from this world, and any information on his plots. Use whatever powers are at your disposal, and bring them both to me."

She nodded, yellow and blue eyes glittering with emotion that he could not easily decipher. She turned to go, lifting her skirts to step through the mirror but tilted her head back toward him. Silence descended on them for a long few moments before she spoke, her voice so quiet that it was barely a whisper. "Perhaps you are not such a disappointment after all."

####

Kabira stepped back through the mirror and into Titania's royal chambers. She dropped into a deep curtsy as soon as her feet hit the plush carpets. "My lady," she murmured.

Queen Titania's voice, typically warm and mellow, had a slight edge to it. "Rise, Kabira, and tell me of your son."

She straightened, "He has reclaimed his throne, but begs our aid in finding his bonded mate." Through more than a millennia of training, Kabira was able to keep her voice and her expression completely unreadable, a trait that helped her survive in such close proximity to the High Queen. "Additionally, he asks that I use whatever resources are at my disposal to ascertain the identity and nature of the Fae, who took her from him so that he might seek recourse for such a grievous insult."

The High Queen nodded regally and extended a hand to stroke the soft fur of the hunting hound at her side. The creature opened its mouth in pleasure, displaying rows of sharp white teeth and a lolling red tongue. "And what, pray tell, does the Goblin King know of Sarah's lineage?"

Kabira gave a slight shake of her head, "Nothing of consequence, your grace. Likely he suspects her a changeling, but does not know how or why she came to be." _Or from who_ , Kabira thought to herself, knowing that the words were best left unsaid.

Titania lifted her tall, curvaceous body from the golden chaise and moved toward her advisor, long cloth-of-gold cloak slithering over the piled carpets like a living thing. Kabira bowed her head as the High Queen approached, but Titania put a long, slender finger under her chin and lifted. The sovereign gazed into Kabira's eyes for many long moments before she let her red lips curl into a satisfied smile, "You are a true friend, my dear." She stepped away and flicked a hand at her advisor, "See to it that your son finds his answers and his new queen. Use my seal if you must, but I warn you not to use it unnecessarily. Try not to involve my dear husband. I leave this in your capable hands."

Kabira curtseyed low, even though the High Queen's back was turned, and murmured to the carpet, "As you will, my lady."

####

Jareth returned from the deeps in low spirits. While his visit had been well-received, his inquiries had come to not. The warrior caste knew little of the hooded Fae or his intentions. Jareth had been able to confirm his suspicions—the hooded creature had been seen lurking about Dionysus in the weeks before the attack on the city and the castle—but other than that, there was little intelligence to be gathered. Most of the warriors had given the strange Fae a wide berth, wary of his magic. While the goblins were nearly unstoppable as a massed unit, they were trumped by magic when it came to individual combat or attack.

Jareth walked the castle, murmuring words of encouragement to some of the goblin staff he passed along the way. He could not force more than a few half-hearted words at a time, a sinking sensation plaguing each step he took. His retainers were kind enough to let him be as, unlike the revelers, they had seen the throne and noted the absence of their queen. Their mood was somber, as was his own.

He climbed one of the towers to look out over his kingdom, lost in his thoughts.

The goblin city spread before him, larger now that the Labyrinth was at peace and not defending itself against intruders. The maze-like walls were barely visible on the horizon, and the kingdom stretched like a patchwork beneath his gaze. Hills, valleys, farmland, little villages, and the true sprawling metropolis of the city glittered with torchlight. It was quieter now that a vast majority of the revelers had drunk or eaten themselves into a stupor.

 _Sarah would have loved to see it like this_ , he thought. She had only known the small, easily defensible area presented to challengers. The peaceful side of the Labyrinth and the Goblin Kingdom were breathtaking, in their way, especially from above. He traced the course of the silver river and its tributaries and saw the faint hint of the sea far beyond his walls. He would take her there when she returned.

He tried to reach for her through the bond and, once again, found nothing. He knew what should have been there, could feel the outline of it, but despite his best efforts it was… lost. She was lost.

"She's not dead," he whispered aloud. He would have felt his own body weakening if this was the case. But the power that she held over the Labyrinth was missing. It moved restlessly, almost childlike in its need for her, but they had time before anything went seriously wrong.

His thoughts drifted to his mother. It had been hours since they spoke, but there had been no word as of yet. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the ledge of the window, his eyes distant and unfocused. "I must be patient," he murmured aloud.

The stars were coming out, and as they did, he raised his eyes to meet them. His upbringing had instilled within him a study of the heavens. It was one of the easiest ways to mark the Fae events—all of those alliances and deaths that were laid bare on the black canvas of history. He could name each of the pairings as they shone through the darkness.

Calm washed over him as he stared up, mentally noting each of the burning giants and their Fae counterparts.

As the sunlight vanished entirely from the horizon, a glint caught his eye and he turned his head, eyes widening. There, near the house of the Summerland, two stars blazed bright, clear, and altogether new. He felt his lips part and spread in a wide smile.

"I move the stars for no one but you, my love."

He watched the pair of stars for a long time, unmoving, and then stepped off the window ledge, his owl form coming to his call and buoying him up on the wind. For a few moments, he reveled in the feel of the wind beneath his wings, and the clarity with which he could see the kingdom spread out below him. Then he turned his amber eyes to the stars in the distance. His wings beat as swift as his heart, claiming the night sky and the twin lights before him, reaching for her over the wisps of clouds.

 _I will find you._

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 **A/N:** Hello lovelies!

I was a bad writer and wrote chapters seventeen and eighteen before I finished this one. They do need a bit of work, so I'm not sure if I'll upload tomorrow (today? It's 2 in the morning my time), but I'll endeavor to do so.

There are a lot of threads to wrap up and I don't want to hurry them. They're presenting themselves to me nice and slow. The more I bait them the more they scurry away.

Please remember to **review and vote** _ **.**_ ****I'm closing down the poll on Friday, September 18. So far the scene you're all calling for is the first kiss in the Queens Garden. Is this the one you want? 'Cause that's what you're getting so far. If not, go cast your vote and let me know!

Cheers from this (sleepy) corner of the world.

~Crimson


	17. The Shape of Things to Come

**A/N:** Main authors note below, but first a word:

Yes, I know that "Irene" is, officially, the name of Sarah's step-mother. I kind of don't care, I named her Judith a while ago and, personally, I like the name. This is my made up story and I'll do what I want. *stamps foot*

Alright, on with the show…

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any of its characters. I do not profit from this story in any way.

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 **Chapter Seventeen**

 **'The Shape of Things to Come'**

"I thought you had a pretty good thing going," Judith said, concern lacing her words. "I mean, I understand if you're having _second thoughts_ but to break it off entirely seems, well… I wouldn't say heartless, darling, but—well, you aren't getting any younger."

Sarah gritted her teeth and looked sidelong at her stepmother. Her father sat across the café table from them, paying special attention to his cup of coffee. She took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh, "I understand your concern, but it was the best thing. Michael seemed relieved, honestly."

Her father lifted his eyebrows but said nothing.

Judith laid a cool hand on Sarah's, "Did you find out about some… indiscretions?"

She shook her head, "No hard evidence, but I just had a feeling that he, well, that he wasn't telling me the whole truth."

Her father lifted his cup in an impromptu salute, "It's best you follow your intuition, Sarah. You have good instincts. I still say you would make a good lawyer."

"Well," Judith said, her voice clipped. "You'll have to settle for something, darling. You've been a bit flighty with your life goals. Why, when I was your age I was three years in on a ten-year plan and going strong, but you— _hm_ , I know you wanted to emulate your mother by being an actress, and that was all well and good. But then you wanted to be a writer, and then a professional chef. All that money on culinary school for you to quit, just like that! I can't say I understand it, dear."

Sarah took a long sip of her coffee and settled back in the wrought-iron chair, fingers curled against the warmth of the paper cup. "I know that you're both worried about me, and I appreciate that," _even if you are being kind of a bitch_ , she thought. "And I didn't ask you guys to come here because I wanted to move back home or need money or anything." The trust fund her mother had set up saw to that.

Sarah took a deep breath, steeling herself, "I actually wanted to tell you that I'm moving. To California."

Her father jerked his head up, dark eyes shining, "What?"

Her step-mother echoed the sentiment, "Whatever do you mean, darling? You've always lived in Vermont."

"Well, see, that's just the thing… I think I need a change of pace. You know, see new things and meet new people." She cradled her coffee cup against her chest, "My friends Larry and Steven, you know the ones I met Freshman year at the community college? Well, they have a house out there—Los Angeles, to be specific—and they said I could rent out one of their spare rooms." _Plus, they're gay,_ she thought, _no chance of falling into the Michael trap again._

She could not pinpoint where, exactly, she and Michael had gone wrong. Sure, she had had her misgivings about their engagement since it began, but overall she had felt content. After she had passed out a week ago though, everything seemed to have changed. Something about the way his clothes smelled, or the way he talked on the phone, always bugged her. Once she was even sure she heard a bubbling, feminine laugh coming through the line when he called her on his business trip. _If that's what it really was_.

By the time Michael had returned, Sarah's bags were packed and she had temporarily relocated to a friend's apartment. They had shared a long, rather bland conversation about it all before he, without any trace of regret, gave her a final, brief hug and wished her well. It had happened so fast, and with so few emotions that, to Sarah, it cemented the fact that they were not meant to be together.

And, she had to admit, ever since she had woken from her fall, she had a nagging feeling that she wasn't where she was supposed to be. Her feet itched to be somewhere, _anywhere_ other than where she was. When she had reached out to Larry through the telephone, he had invited her to stay, so long as she could pay a small rent and her share of the grocery bill. She had positively leaped at the chance.

Her father and Judith raised objections to her moving announcement. Sarah calmly put each of them to rest, trying not to lose her temper even as a headache threatened to overwhelm her. She had been getting more of them but, after a panicked trip to the doctor, was assured they were merely a side effect of the fall. That and, apparently, the inability to keep down much in the way of food—but the physician had warned she had signs of concussion, and that nausea was part and parcel with such an injury. _Thankfully coffee stays down_ , she mused, smiling into her cup as her father glowered into his own.

"I'll write and I'll call," she assured them. "Toby can come out and visit once I'm settled in. I'm sure he'd love to see Disneyland, and Sea World isn't too far of a drive from where I'll be living. A lot of his friends' have family out on the West Coast, but he's never been out there."

Her father snorted, "Philistines."

She smiled, "Yes, dad, but it'll be fun. He'll love it." She reached across the table and took his hand, then squeezed it gently. "I'll be fine. I've thought about this—really."

"Have you thought about what you'll _do_ , honey?" Judith played with the gold crucifix at her neck, worrying the pendant on its thin chain.

Sarah reached up to her own throat, copying the gesture, but stopped half way. _I'm not wearing a necklace_ , she reminded herself, and for some reason, a wave of sadness crept over her. She shook herself and turned to Judith, "I'm not entirely sure yet. I may try my hand at the local theater scene. Larry and Steve told me about a friend of theirs who owns a record store and has a job opening, so I'll do that for a while until I figure out the direction I'm going in."

Judith and her father let out a sigh at the exact same moment, and Sarah's ears reddened. Her father was silent, slowly rolling the cup of coffee between his palms. Judith clasped Sarah's hand again, her fingers cool and blunt nails hard against her skin, "Well, you'll always have a home with us. Remember that."

####

Jareth sat the horned throne, riding crop pressed against his booted foot. His mother had sent a message that she would be coming to call soon, and he had emptied the throne room in preparation for her coming. She had always had a faint distaste for his subjects, and their enthusiasm at his return had made them more clumsy and underfoot than usual.

The Labyrinth had been put to rights. The deeps had been cleansed of any outlying rebellious factions and a new battle-general had been found in a tall, imposing goblin called Shaa who bore scars from the whippings he had taken under Dionysus. Jareth had been pleased to elevate a creature that had remained loyal to him through the Dark Year, as it was now being called.

The only space that resisted his commands was the Queens Gardens, the creation that Sarah had made when she first harnessed the power of the medallion. Jareth had meant to bring it closer to the castle so that he could keep a piece of her close, but it stubbornly refused to move. He visited the place on occasion, standing beneath the oak that had sheltered them when they shared their first kiss, seeing her hand in every petal and stalk.

It had been two weeks with no sign. While he tried to retain a sense of calm, inside he was a storm of fury. Each night he ascended to the aerie to hold vigil, his footsteps slowing as he crested the last few stairs to the tower. He was desperately afraid that one of these nights he would look for their stars and hers would be gone, lost to him forever. Once he caught sight of their twin flames, he would stare for as long as his legs would support him. Sometimes he flew toward them, his owl form almost _certain_ that it could reach her if they only flew faster, further than before.

Jareth rubbed a hand over his face and leaned forward, his crop tapping out a mindless rhythm on the flagstones of the dais. He did not glance at the throne beside him though he could feel its presence like an accusation.

 _I could have reacted faster,_ he thought, not for the first time. _I should have known that there were more powers at play than rebellious goblins_. But he had been blinded by his concern for the throne, for the citizens who had perished under the madness of Dionysus and his concubine. He had been so long away from the Fae Courts that he had almost forgotten how treacherous life could be, how easily it could be disrupted if he were not vigilant.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Kabira staring down at him, her face a blank mask, "Son of mine."

Jareth rose, "What news?"

She smiled, "I have found your queen. She is well."

His heart leaped at the words, and he found himself taking a step toward his mother, coming closer than he had in decades. "Where is she? Did you bring her back?" He looked over her shoulder, half expecting to see Sarah emerge from the shadows, a smile wide on her lovely face.

Kabira shook her head once and ran her hands down her jeweled skirts, taking a step away from her son as she did so. "She is currently traveling in the Aboveground, and she is quite safe." She tilted her head to look at her son, "She has no memory of you and your days here though I could tell through her dreams that she retains some sense of what transpired. She has left her mortal lover and moves to a new home near the sea."

Jareth's hand tightened on his riding crop, the leather protesting under the strength of his fingers. He took a breath to steady himself, "And what of the Fae? Have you discovered his identity or his purpose?"

His mother gave a mild nod, "I have a suspicion."

Jareth waited for more information, but his mother did not elaborate. "Well? Who is he?"

Kabira lifted her hand in a gesture of placation, "In good time, my dear. There are many forces at work, and I must tread delicately."

He wanted to rage at her. The place where Sarah should have been, the cavernous _nothing_ that should have been her soft, reassuring presence was gone. He could barely sleep or eat, and all the while he had to keep up the pretense of assurance, to give a measure of strength to the subjects who had long suffered under the usurper's rule. Kabira's calm, gentle words felt like a slap.

His mother smiled slightly and touched his face, the motion so shocking that all other thoughts fled his mind. She had not touched him, skin on skin, for over a hundred years. "Queen Titania bids you be patient, my son. She is pleased with your performance thus far, and urges me to tell you that all will be restored soon." She dropped her hand and smoothed her palms against the bodice of her dress—the only habit that Jareth knew to point toward her distress or, in some cases, pleasure. "I believe you will be pleased with the results."

Jareth swallowed hard and shook himself, "I wish you would not speak in riddles, mother mine."

She laughed, the sound just the proper amount of mirth and satisfaction that would be approved of in any Fae court. "Riddles are all we have, Jareth. I will return to you as soon as I am able."

Kabira conjured the mirror to her side and stepped through it without another word.

####

Sarah left her family home on a windy autumnal day, the leaves skittering across the road, their shapes a carpet of brilliant oranges, reds, and yellows. She hugged Toby last and longest before she got into her car, turned up the heater, and waved her goodbyes.

After the first hundred miles, she stopped crying.

She drove for fourteen hours each day and stopped at whichever motel boasted the lowest rates she could see from the road. Twice she found herself in areas that would have made her shudder with fear before, but now she felt confident, strong. Something in the act of deciding on her course of action and then actually leaving had brought her in touch with that deep, inner seed of self that she thought lost long ago. Sarah knew, without understanding how, that she was not to be trifled with.

On her last night, Sarah stopped off the long highway and camped outside under a sky strewn with stars. She was in the middle of the high desert and, because of the persistent cold, was reasonably sure that snakes and scorpions were already hibernating and would not seek out her warm sleeping bag. Coyotes sang, and the wind bit even through the downy layers of her bag, but Sarah could not conceive of sleeping inside on a night like this.

The Milky Way stretched overhead, brilliant and clearer than she had ever seen it. It was like a blanket of stars. She lay with her arms folded under her head and watched the sky subtly shift overhead until her eyes were heavy with sleep.

 _"Sarah."_

 _She lay in a heap of blankets, snuggled into furs, velvets and silks. They felt divine against her skin, and she stretched against the feel of them, a smile wide on her face._

 _Long, lean fingers caressed her cheek, her jaw. She felt the press of lips on her bare stomach, trailing up her body to claim her mouth. The kiss was more than she had ever experienced before—deep, biting, and so hot she practically burned at the sensation. She tried to lift her arm to touch the person hovering over her, but her limbs would not obey her commands. 'Whoever this is,' she thought, 'they are not allowed to stop.'_

 _But they did stop, leaving her breathless and tingling. She tried to open her eyes, to see who it was, but they too would not listen. She felt hot breath tickle her ear, a hand press down her throat and settle on her breast. She shivered as the voice spoke again. "Come back to me, my love."_

She opened her eyes. The sky was pink at the edges where the mountains began. A few of the stronger stars remained, but they were being overtaken by the rising light of the sun. She sat up and stretched, looking around her. The dream had felt _real_ , so much so that it took her a long couple of minutes to get her bearings and remember not only where she was, but why she was there.

She shook her head and clambered out of the warm embrace of the sleeping bag. The cold wind hit her with the force of ice water and, teeth chattering, she fumbled for her keys, throwing her bag hurriedly into the back seat so she could start the car and warm herself.

####

Jareth conjured a crystal, "Sir Didymus."

The little fox terriers face appeared in the orb, swaying gently from side to side as he rode. "My king! Verily, I am startled by thy presence. Have you had word of our lady?"

Jareth's fingers tightened on the crystal, "No. It was my hope you might."

The knight shook his head, his whiskers drooping. "I am afraid not, sire. We have traveled far and roamed long, but the path has led to naught."

"And the Fae? Have you discovered anything about him?"

Again the knight shook his head, "Only whispers and rumors, sire."

"What rumors, sir knight?"

The creature tilted its head, "Some goblins we stumbled across said that the Fae was a messenger of the gods, sire, but they were inebriated in celebration of your return." He paused and tilted his head, and Jareth heard a low rumbling voice, too distant to fully understand. "My brave companion reports that the fairies were whispering of a prophecy, but with his reputation toward them, he was unable to ascertain anything further. I am sorry, my liege."

Jareth felt a surge of pity for the creature. The knight was a noble creature, brave of heart and pure of intent. He was better suited for leading a charge into battle or guarding royalty, not for this work of uncovering the many tangled threads of conspiracy. Jareth bit back the desire to order the little knight back to the castle, to set him at a task better suited for the creature's talents. Sir Didymus would have answered the call, but the wound to his pride would have been great.

"You perform a great service, sir knight. Send word if you hear of anything."

A glimmer of purpose and fierce pride shone in the fox terrier's remaining eye, and he lifted his head, his spine straight. "I will not falter in my expedition, my king. I will find our queen, or perish in the attempt!"

Jareth broke their connection, idly twirling the crystal with his fingers. He let it fade and rose from his desk, standing before the tall window that overlooked his kingdom. The sun shone down merrily, and the fields lay like carpets of emerald and gold. A bubble of noise rose from the crowded city like the contented murmuring of a forest brook. His people were happy, more or less, though they whispered about their missing queen. The Labyrinth shifted in the back of his thoughts, drawn forth by their mutual worry over her.

 _Two moons_ , he thought to himself, a hollow ache in his chest. He blinked against the glorious day and willed himself to her garden.

The fountains seemed to sing within this peaceful place. A bumblebee bumped against his head and continued on its way, its brethren thick among the blooms. Jareth walked slowly through the rows of neat flower beds, his hand reaching out to idly caress the petals as he passed. He stopped before a statue, one that echoed the one from his refuge, though this one was wrought in the purest of marble.

He stared at the figures, at their knowing smiles as they held their bodies locked in an eternal waltz. His eyes traced over the curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw, the curves and planes of her body. He longed to touch those lines, but he could not bear it. He would not chase away the memory of her warmth with the cold, unyielding statue before him. He let his eyes drink in every inch of her visage, lost in the memory of those few, too-brief hours when she was fully his.

A pebble knocked against his boot. He almost didn't notice it, but the little rock was insistent, tapping out a rhythm against the polished black leather. Jareth looked down and, as his gaze found the intruder, it skipped around him and rolled along the path. When he did not move, it rolled back and began knocking once more.

Brow furrowed, Jareth took a few hesitant steps toward the strange little thing, and it skipped away in an almost self-satisfied manner.

The pebble was joined by another, and then another. Soon he found himself following a steady line of the little stones, jostling and rolling over each other like overenthusiastic children. The Labyrinth, seeming to sense the oddity through its Kings thoughts, smoothed the pathway so that the rocks flowed like water, unencumbered by pitted flagstones or rutted tracks of mud.

He did not know how long he followed them. When the rocks piled up against the wall of a natural cave, he stopped and took a look around. So far as he remembered, this was not a part of the Labyrinth he had seen before—a considerable feat considering how long he had wandered its paths. He glanced at the stones, practically vibrating against the wall of the cave's entrance, and then stepped past them and into the shadows, ducking under a curtain of pale green lichen.

The cave was oddly warm, and a faint yellow-green glow emanated from the walls. A dark shape moved in the corner of the cave, enormous and shaggy. Jareth smiled a little when the figure emerged into the light. "Ludo," he said, his voice carrying a faint edge of amusement. "I take it your friends brought me here at your behest?"

Ludo tilted his great, wide head and shook himself. Droplets of water flung off of him, peppering the Goblin King in a fine mist. "Sarah," the giant rumbled in his peculiar accent and beckoned the king to follow him, turning back toward the dark hole of the cave's depths.

Jareth's heart skipped a beat, hope and fear warring for dominance. He took a steadying breath and picked his way carefully across the cavern, trusting his sense of touch, sound, and smell to lead him true. The great shaggy beast let off a rather pungent animal odor, and his great arms brushed the walls of the cavern, the sound like dry leaves against a hard ground.

They did not walk far before the strange glow began once more, and the scent of magic tinged the air. Ludo stood aside to show Jareth a small semi-circular chamber, moss shining green, gold and blue on the walls and ceiling. Glow-worm threads hung from the ceiling, bathing the cavern in the light of a thousand dim stars held aloft by chains of clear crystal beads.

But Jareth's gaze fell on the center of the chamber, his breath catching. The Labyrinth purred in the back of his mind and gave off the impression of settling back on its haunches, as though to see what its clever king would do next.

It was a heart stone. _The_ heart stone, its surface carved with the same symbol that had been wrought in the center of his medallion. _Sarah's medallion_ , he corrected himself mentally, shaking his head.

He glanced at Ludo. Great of size though he was, Ludo was one of the most innocuous denizens of the Labyrinth. Jareth thought back to the beginning of his reign and realized with a start that Ludo had been there—not his ancestor, but _him_. Tentative, Jareth reached out a hand and touched one shaggy arm, "Dionysus or… the stranger. They targeted you on purpose, didn't they?" Ludo's mouth fell open in a grin, exposing his large yellow-white teeth. Jareth felt a chill race down his spine, "You're the keeper of the stone, aren't you?"

The giants eyes glittered in the odd light, but he said nothing, his gaze intent on the Goblin King. Jareth glanced between Ludo and the heart stone, his mind racing, the magic a heady scent in the air. He took a deep breath and looked to the Guardian once again, "May I approach?"

The giant gave a single nod, and Jareth let his hand drop. As he approached the heart stone the feel of magic grew thick, until it was within every particle of air, the atmosphere heavy and electric like before a storm. It was an ancient, powerful thing, raised or _born_ out of the earth to anchor the Labyrinth and bring it forth from the stuff of this world. Others, he knew, lay at the center of the kingdoms of elves, trolls, centaurs, and all the other kingdoms. They were, as they were named, the very heart of the kingdoms. The anchor that held each realm in place.

He had known of its existence but, as his predecessors had done, did not seek it out. Such powers were difficult to even understand, albeit control, and every Fae knew that the power would be intoxicating. Perhaps too much so to let it alone.

Jareth reached out a hand and gently touched the carved symbol. It pulsed beneath his hand, and the Labyrinth rumbled, the sound and feel like that of a low warning growl. He backed up a step and ran into the wall of fur and muscle that was the stone's guardian.

Ludo placed a wide paw on each of Jareth's shoulders, the heavy limbs practically anchoring him to the spot, and the Goblin King felt the presence of the Labyrinth grow stronger. The Labyrinth, always rather nebulous and never openly communicative, spoke to him for the first time in three hundred years.

 _Goblin King,_ it rumbled, and the walls of the cavern seemed to tremble, the words coming from the very rocks. _We must talk._

####

Nothing added up.

Sarah looked at the bank statement, the thin white paper like an accusation. The ones from the two months previous sat on the bed on either side of her folded legs. The bold number at the bottom stared back from three directions, the same amount in every one. "This doesn't make any sense," Sarah muttered.

She had called the bank last month when her second statement had come in the mail. Three hours and over a half dozen representatives later, Sarah had hung up in exasperation. They had the same numbers in front of them—all of her purchases, her monthly rent checks to Larry and Steven, and the gas she dutifully pumped into her pale green Geo. She had cashed a few paltry checks from the record store, but the end amount remained the same. It should have gone down by now—gone _way_ down—but it had not. The representatives had, infuriatingly, _seen_ the numbers but not _understood_ them. Not the way Sarah did.

This last month she had purposefully overspent, buying health insurance she knew she could not afford and several new, expensive outfits. Her bed was spread not with the old quilt from her grandmother but a luxurious duvet of silk and down, and new cosmetics littered the vanity in her en suite. The purchases were laid out on the statement she clutched between cold fingers, yet the five figures at the end remained unchanged. It was like she had done nothing at all.

 _I shouldn't be complaining,_ Sarah thought for the hundredth time, _it's not like I don't need it._

If it had only been the money, she would have chalked it up to a bank error in her favor, but there were other signs. She had been applying eye shadow one night before going to a bar with the guys and, as she turned to dab her brush into the gold powder once more, she thought she had seen a flash of clear, ice blue. She had done a double take, but once her focus was entirely on her reflection, her green eyes stared back at her, just the same as they had always been.

Later that same night, at the bar with Larry, Steven, and three of their friends, she had seen a man that made her heart almost stop. She could see only the back of his head, a fall of white-gold hair, but the sight had made her chest hurt. She had pushed away from their little table and made her way to him, squeezing between people in her haste. Then the music seemed to _change_ in the background, shifting from the base-heavy club music to a low, acoustic song that swelled loud over the murmur of the bar patrons;

 _Starlight falls through your eyes as the worlds topple down_

 _My love, could you destroy me with every breath?_

 _I think you might_

 _Only you can bring me to my senses_

 _Find me, my beloved…_

But before she could reach the man, he had disappeared, and so had the strange melody. When she had returned to the table, her friends had been concerned, questioning. She had asked them about the music, repeating the lyrics as best she could, but they only frowned

Then, when she had gone on a day trip to the bluffs of Monterey, she had slipped off the ledge of a cliff, only to appear on the thin sandy beach below, unharmed and with no idea how she had gotten there.

Each of these incidents had been followed by headaches, and Sarah could no longer pretend they were the after effects of her concussion. Something was _wrong_ , very wrong, but every time she felt like she had almost realized its cause the thoughts slipped through her fingers like grains of sand.

And then there were the dreams. Every night without fail, she would dream of a voice in the dark, hands on her skin, kisses on her lips that could be as soft as the brush of a moth wing or hard, biting, and feverishly hot things. She woke with a feeling of discontent, as though there was something missing. The feeling had plagued her so that she pushed off her sleep until the last possible moment, and set her alarm to blare at the earliest possible hour.

Steven had remarked about it just the other day. "Honey," he said, "Heroin chic is so last year." Then he had offered her a Xanax.

Sarah let the bank statement fall among the others. It was the most overt, the most disturbing of all of the little signs. The representatives had seemed confused at her line of questioning, almost as though they could not _see_ the impossibility of the numbers. Still, they had said they would look into it. Sarah had held out hope that something would change until she slit open the envelope that afternoon, and a new statement fell into her hands—the remaining balance the same as the last two.

She slid off her bed and padded into the bathroom, inspecting the shadows under her eyes and sweeping her hair up into a loose bun. She stared at her reflection for a long moment and slapped herself lightly on one cheek, "Get a hold of yourself, Williams."

Sighing, she reached beneath the sink to grab her makeup bag, knocking a box out of the cabinet in the process. Cursing, she bent to retrieve it from where it had fallen back near the toe board and felt a wash of cold cascade over her. She straightened and looked at her reflection and the innocuous little box in her hands. "Oh, no," she murmured. The cardboard crunched under her fingers, the little pink flowers and vines crinkled.

She dropped the box in the sink and hurried back into her room, pulling her day calendar from the nightstand. _No, no, no_ , she thought desperately, flipping back to the month before, and then the month before that. No red notes. She had always been careful to track her cycle so that she did not have to carry embarrassing items in her purse at all times, and to make absolutely _sure_ that she knew if—

"Fuck," Sarah whispered, the calendar falling from numb fingers. "Oh, fucking hell."

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 **A/N:** Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of my reviewers! I know I've been neglecting you all in shout-outs, but know that I appreciate each and every one of you. Special thanks to my consistent reviewers JatredGirl, MyraValhalla and Tenjp. I love hearing from all of you as we go through this story together :)

Special shout-out to maraudergurl2010: you crack me up. I think I may be in love with you.

I've read a lot of arguments on "the stepmother's" name. Karen. Irene. Whatever. I kind of don't care. I named her 'Judith' in "Perfect", and Judith she remains in my eyes. She always looked like a Judith to me.

At least now I know what Firey's are and didn't call them "pom pom chicken creatures" like last time round. *shudder*


	18. As Strong as Yours

**A/N:** I'm alive!

As my mother wrote to me in a threatening e-mail, _"Post a new chapter or else I'll take your precious cat hostage and feed him things that will make him gassy and shitty."_ I have a lovely family, amiright? ;)

I am so, so, so sorry for the long (for me) pause between uploading chapters.

I got to about 10k words past chapter seventeen and went… wait, what the hell am I doing?

And then I spent all this time editing through my entire manuscript. Twice.

Which is to say… things have changed.

Nothing huge! Just a little here, a little there. But the combined chapters before this one grew by more than 7,000 words, so… maybe a little more than just… a few changes? *clears throat* Um. All the chapters have been updated to their current versions? Hurray! :/

Being the little attention-seeker I am I would, of course, recommend re-reading the whole thing so that all those little questions that were raised will be answered now, one way or the other, but that's just me. Also, there's more of a back story to the events that will happen from here on out.

I'm so, so sorry about that. Teaches me for writing while posting. Sigh.

Love you all.

(P.S. – the story is finished and you will be getting daily updates until it's all over—that's this one and two more. Hurray?)

(P.P.S **.- I illustrated the "kiss in the Queens Garden" scene.** You can find it by searching for my deviantart name: dsberggren. In the pictures description you'll find a link to a playlist of songs I've listened to about a million times while writing this story—maybe worth a listen? You get brownie points.)

Disclaimer:  I do not own Labyrinth or any of its characters. I do not profit from this story in any way.

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 **Chapter Eighteen**

 **'As Strong as Yours'**

"Miss Williams? The doctor will see you now."

Sarah lifted her head from her study of the carpet and cast an anxious glance at Steven. He folded his magazine and stood with her, following the nurse into the back offices of the clinic. Sarah reached out for her friend's hand, gripping it tight within her own. He gave her a little squeeze back and followed her into the examination room.

Sarah waited on the patients table after the nurse had taken her blood pressure, pulse, and temperature, feeling ridiculous perched on the edge of the little bed with its sheet of waxy paper crinkling underneath her. She drummed her fingers on the vinyl cover and kicked her legs, looking everywhere but at her friend or, gods forbid, the posters of medical cross-sections that were tacked to the cool gray walls.

Steven stood and placed a hand on either of Sarah's shoulders. She stopped her kicks and looked at him, her eyes wide. His brown eyes bored into hers and he took a deep breath before speaking, "Sarah. It is going to be okay. You're making the right choice here."

Sarah nodded and crossed her arms over her stomach. There was little change in its shape, only a firm, light curve to it that had not been there before. She curled around it instinctively. Steven sat back down, his brow furrowed in concern, and leaned forward with his hands clasped over his knees. Sarah took a few shaking breaths, "It's not Michael's," she said, so soft that she was not sure if her friend could hear her.

He nodded, the movement slow as though she were a wild animal he was afraid to spook. "Do you know who's?"

Sarah shook her head, her hair falling from the loose bun atop her head to whip her cheeks. _An accusation_. Tears pricked at her eyes and she raised her hand from her belly to wipe them away, "None of this makes any sense."

"Everyone has had nights like that," Steven replied evenly and leaned back, crossing his long denim-clad legs. "I met Larry during one of them."

Sarah snorted a laugh and slid off the table to pace the examination room. Three long strides brought her to the end and back, but she could not bear to sit still any longer. "I wasn't drunk, Steven. You know me, I don't—"

Her words were interrupted by a swift knock on the door, followed by a tall, ponytailed doctor. He held her chart in his hands and he reached out a hand for hers, taking it briefly in his dry, warm grasp. If he was surprised at seeing her off the examination table he had the good grace not to say so, instead settling into the rolling black stool near the foot of the patient bed. "It's good to see you again, Miss Williams. Would you like to take a seat?"

Sarah did, glancing at Steven as she did so, the paper rustling as she settled herself into place. Her friend's expression was mild, but she thought she could see a tension about his eyes. _Is he having second thoughts about this,_ she wondered, _does he think I'm a monster for doing it?_

She was starting to think she might be.

Sarah listened as the doctor talked her through the procedure. The words were almost exactly like those he had used the first time she had been here. _Quite a simple procedure,_ his voice echoed in her mind, _shouldn't be any complications. Up and about in no time._

 _I don't want to be up and about in no time,_ she thought savagely, _I want this to hurt me, to have the possibility of killing me._ Her grip tightened on the vinyl cushion, her shoulders hunched and a hard knot of tension forming in between her shoulder blades.

The doctor stood and pulled a two-piece paper gown out of one of the cabinets that lined the wall. He placed them on the table next to her, "We'll just let you change and then we'll get started." He nodded toward Steven, opening the door. Her friend gave her a quick glance and ducked out into the hallway, followed swiftly on the heels by the long-haired doctor.

She stood and began to pace.

After a few moments, she stopped at the table and stared at the folded paper gown. Little cartoon rubber ducks decorated it, sprinkled among polka dots. She traced the outline of it. When she stopped, her hand fell back to her stomach. She looked down, her hand bare and white except for a thin line, barely the width of a pencil mark, which circled her index finger. She frowned, and a sharp lance of pain shot through her temples.

Sarah shook her head and looked again. The mark was gone. _It had never been there to begin with,_ she admonished herself, _you're imagining things._ She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

She pressed down on her stomach. There was no flutter from within, no quickening or stir of life, but she knew it was there. Knew with bone-deep certainty. "Who are you?" She whispered, fingers tracing out a circular rhythm, "Who are you, little prince?"

Pain struck through her once more and she staggered, both hands flying to her stomach to protect her charge. Suddenly the air in the little room was too hot, too stuffy. She pushed herself away from the table and pressed one of the foot pedals at the doctor's station that would release water into the tiny metal sink, splashing cool water on her face. She caught her reflection in the tiny mirror affixed to the door of one of the cabinets and started, turning.

She could have sworn there had been someone standing behind her.

 _No,_ her mind corrected gently, _some thing_.

A knock rang out and the doctor called, "Are you decent?"

Sarah answered in the affirmative and noted that the doctor's eyebrows rose before he brought back the blank mask of his profession. "Did you need more time?"

Sarah shook her head and crossed her arms, water beading at the bottom of her chin. She caught Steven's eyes and shook her head minutely. The bead of water fell, and she stepped back from the dark spatter on the linoleum. _It could have so easily been blood_ , she thought, "No. No, I don't think I need any more time. I think I just need to go home."

####

 _"The tale of you and your queen have long been writ in the bones of the earth" The Labyrinth rumbled, "Your enemy is unlike many of your kind. He has read the signs, and has long plotted his move against the Summerland."_

 _"Who is he?"_

 _"A remnant from a bygone time, a rival. A creature with no face and many faces. It is immaterial," it sighed, and the cavern filled with a musty warm wind. "What you must know is this..."_

Jareth's quill made quick work of the drawing, plotting out the position of the cave that held the heart stone with as much detail as he could recall. While the Labyrinth shifted constantly, there were some places that remained fixed, such as Sarah's garden, the Firey forest, and the Bog of Eternal Stench. He had the feeling that the cavern of the heart stone would be the same.

The Labyrinth preened a bit at his attentions, the presence solid and comforting. He smiled to himself and murmured, "You certainly are full of surprises."

Ludo, great Guardian that he had revealed himself to be, had been able to act as a medium between the Labyrinth and Jareth, translating the massive structure's intent into words that the Goblin King could readily understand. _Long has there been the story of the meet between the daughter of heaven and earth, the son of the stars, and the life they would breathe back into a dying realm_ , Jareth recalled, working the Labyrinth's words around in his mind for the umpteenth time.

A sense of someone tapping him on the shoulder made Jareth lift his head from the map and, recognizing the sensation, he conjured a crystal. Sir Didymus filled its silvery depths, his whiskers pointed forward and his little body practically vibrating with excitement.

"Sire! I have news of our lady."

Jareth sucked in a quick breath, "What is it?"

The weathered face of Hoggle pushed the fox-terrier aside, "We's found a man says that he's seen the creature and—"

Sir Didymus returned into the frame, his single eye narrowed in consternation, "Excuse the interruption, sire, for some of us do not possess courtly manners."

Jareth's lip curled and his words came out clipped, "What news, the two of you?"

"My liege, we stopped at this Inn, for our bones are weary and the path has been—"

Jareth ran a hand over his face and ground his teeth.

"—stranger by the fire heard talk from a Fae, who matched the description of the spineless worm who stole our fair queen. He reports that the Fae left through a portal nearby, and we search for it now. There was word that the creature was to transport a woman through the portal though that particular piece of the information was a bit shoddy if you'll pardon my saying so."

Jareth rose from his desk, the crystal still raised before his face. "Where are you now?"

Hoggle entered the frame, "'s no good, Jareth, we're outside the Goblin borders. Ya can't follows us or your neighbor will get mighty testy."

"Which kingdom are you in?"

"The Troll Kingdom, sire," Sir Didymus called from outside his vision. "And verily, you did not leave the best of impressions upon them the last time."

 _I'd rather think not,_ Jareth thought, _though I did gain a very useful talent._ "I take it you will go through the portal and attempt to locate her?"

"Yes, sire," they said in unison. Hoggle grumbled a little as he made way for the fox-terrier, his mutterings difficult to understand through their tenuous connection. "Sire, once we have found her, what would have us do?"

"A source tells me that she possesses little memory of her time here," Jareth said, choosing his words carefully. "Bring her to me if you can, but be gentle with her. She may have more trouble accepting you this time."

The knight nodded gravely and turned to his companion, speaking in a hushed whisper. When his gaze focused on the Goblin King again, he appeared hurried, distracted. "We must go, sire. The sun will soon set and we want to make all due haste to the portal before then."

Jareth nodded. The two of them were small creatures in a world of towering, territorial, nocturnal troll-men. "Go with good fortune, sir knight, Hoggle."

The crystal darkened, and Jareth slid it away, his eye going back to the scattered paperwork on his desk. The map sat in the center, the location of the heart stone shining dark and wet where he had recently drawn it out. Underneath were the correspondence from the varied territories that touched his own—missives from the Elven Lords, the Troll Council, and even one from the far away High King Oberon. Many inquired, subtle and polite, as to the whereabouts of his new queen, writ in between the lines of trade queries and matters of state.

 _It does no good to dwell on what I cannot change,_ he thought, _I must trust that one of them will find her._

####

Sarah stood on the shore, looking out toward two of the Channel Islands. They were nothing but vague shapes in the far distance, their forms cloaked by a light fog and the haze of sunlight on water. She pulled her sweater tight around her, clutching her arms to herself, and squinted against the latest spray of salt water on her face.

She had requested that Steven drop her off here and go home, that she would catch the bus back later, but he had stubbornly stayed put. She could no longer see the parking lot from where she had wandered down the beach, but she knew that he was keeping an eye on her. Her friend had said little after her botched doctor's appointment, but she could tell from the way his knuckles whitened on his steering wheel that he was concerned—angry, even.

"He didn't think he was opening up his home to two people," Sarah said aloud, the words quiet enough to be drowned in the surf.

She took a deep, calming breath of the crisp sea air and tried to block out the noise of the few other beach goers, dogs and little children crying out amongst the scream of seagulls. The tourists were few on the ground, only a handful of determined souls that would brave the chill air to make the most of their coastal vacation.

Her eyes followed the flight path of a pair of pelicans, their pouches flush against their beaks. She slipped out of her shoes and walked toward the line of wet sand.

The water hit feet and eddied around her ankles, the cold like a shock of ice against her skin. Within minutes, her body grew used to the temperature and she sank her toes into the yielding sand, letting the waves wash over her, the gentle rhythm comforting.

The cold helped her to think.

She knew that Larry and Steven would be unhappy with the addition of a newborn into the house. They would, likely as not, never say so aloud, but she knew that they did not see a baby as a welcome addition. Their lifestyle was not one that would accommodate feeding schedules and the odd, sour-milk smell of babies to invade their impeccably furnished bungalow.

Her thoughts turned to the bank statements.

 _I could live the life of a socialite if I had that much to play with each month_ , she thought, _but better than that, I could give a good life to my child, fatherless or no._ She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, the movement of the water around her and the sand under her soles the only anchor to the world. The sound of the surf, so close now, drowned out all but the most piercing cries of the seagulls.

Without looking, she raised her hand to rest lightly on her stomach. _I'll give you a good life, little one_ , she thought, a wave of tenderness coursing over her. _I may not have planned you, but I already love you_.

####

"Son," Kabira's voice cut through the shadows. Jareth turned, startled to see anyone in the aerie but him. His mother was dressed plainly today, the normally heavy jeweled court clothes swapped for a dress of wool. It was still finely made, but he could count the number of times he had seen her similarly clad on one hand.

"Good evening, mother. What news?"

She came to stand beside him, looking out at the stars as he had been a moment before. They stood shoulder to shoulder for a time, and when his mother spoke her voice was… almost sad, "She shines brightly."

Jareth did not take his gaze from the twin stars, "Yes," he said simply.

"The Queen has asked I give you a message," Kabira began, her tone respectful and low. "Our Queen has found the identity of the Fae you seek and, with my help, has divested his known associates of information pertaining to his current location."

Jareth waited, still gazing outward, his heart hammering and one fist clenched at his side. _At last_ , he thought but said nothing. He had seen more of his mother in these last three months than he had in the last three hundred years and knew that she would tell him when she felt he was ready.

Kabira placed a gentle hand on his arm, and he turned to her, his movements slow. His mother looked at him and a ghost of a smile flitted across her face and was gone, "Let us hope that your bonded pair is stronger than either of us."

He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

Her hand dropped from his arm and she let out a gentle sigh, turning toward the starry sky, "Word reached my lady that you discovered the heart stone—that the Labyrinth has told you of the prophecy."

He nodded.

"The Queen has requested you speak of this to no one. We stand on a precipice, my son. What happens now, if not handled delicately, will lead us all into darkness." She stepped away from him and brushed her hand over his as she did, the movement comforting even as it was fleeting. "It will not be long now, my son, one way or the other."

####

Sarah thought she heard a rustling from the corner of her room and turned to the sound. There was nothing there.

It was the third time she had heard something and turned to look, only to be met with empty air. She could not shake the feeling that there _was_ something there, something just out of sight.

 _Something I've forgotten. Something I should never have forgotten_.

She almost welcomed the pain when it came. Where once it had distracted her, now she knew it to be a sign that she was on the right track. _Whatever is causing this_ , she thought, a cold certainty falling over her, _I will find out where it's coming from and kick its ass._

She went back to unpacking, laying out her books along the built-in shelves. There was a comfort in the monotony, a sense of purpose to the task. While she had delved into her life in Los Angeles with a fervor, she had never fully unpacked until today, and she had been working at it since daybreak.

In a way, the motion was a waste of time. She could hear the low voice of Larry and Steven talking in the other room, and knew that soon she would have to find her own place to be. While they were her friends and they supported her decisions, they had not signed up for an infant.

A folded newspaper sat on her bureau, red ink circling a few likely apartments that she would begin to inquire about tomorrow.

It was only through a monumental effort that Sarah kept the feeling of panic at bay. It was an almost physical presence, and she knew that if she let it, it would wrap its hands around her throat and choke her until she could not breathe. _I'm pregnant_ , she thought again, her thoughts following the razors edge of anxiety, _and I don't know how_.

She and Michael had always used protection but, that aside, they had not engaged in any baby-making activities for nearly four weeks before his business trip. Their busy schedules had often kept them from each others' beds for long stretches of time.

Every day and every moment were accounted for, except for one. The moment that seemed to be at the root of a never ending stream of questions and oddities— _the moment I fell_. She thought on her dreams, which she now welcomed even though they left her shaken and perturbed come the mornings light. She could not shake the feeling that the man in the dream had something to do with how her life had turned upside down.

Another shuffling thump from behind her and Sarah whirled, a red leather book clasped her hands like a weapon. Eyes wide, she scanned the empty space and cursed, flinging the book onto the bed and throwing up her hands, "Okay! Whatever the hell you are, just show yourself already. This 'let's screw around and scare the pregnant lady' thing is really immature."

She strode to the sliding glass door that looked out over the backyard, her heart tapping out a staccato rhythm in her ears. The place was quiet, only a faint whining cry of seagulls, the distant bark of a dog, and the steady, low hum of passing cars to break the silence. She placed her hand on the glass, gazing out and opening her lungs to allow her breath to lengthen and relax her body.

 _I'm not going crazy_ , she thought, _I can't be. Can I?_

####

"She can't see us," Hoggle growled, his thick-knuckled fingers closing into a fist. "Why can't she see us?"

"Pray be strong, my dearest companion. She can _feel_ us." Sir Didymus looked up at the form of his queen, shaken but strong, her hand pressed against the cool glass of her window. "And for now, that is enough."

The dwarf was silent for a moment, and then abruptly let out an alarmed exclamation, "Wait, did she say _pregnant_?"

####

Sarah sank onto her bed with a sigh, curling her fingers around the steaming mug of tea. The room felt cozier now, comforting with all of her things arranged as she had originally envisioned them. Steven and Larry were still talking, the rise and fall of their voices soothing even though she knew they often spoke of her.

She turned her head toward the corner of her room, where the noises had originated from earlier. She felt as though there were something there, someone who was watching over her with warmth and affection. She could not pinpoint the exact reason she felt this way but, if she had learned anything from the strange happenings the last few months, she knew now that nothing was as it seemed.

She picked up the book she had cast aside earlier, fingers tracing the worn letters. There was a hint of gold to them, and faint black lines and vines that decorated the edges. The cover was warm and soft under her fingertips, and she found herself thumbing through the pages, a smile curling her lips as she set the tea down on her side table.

Tucking her legs up under her, she pulled the chenille throw onto her lap and ignoring the dull ache of a headache beginning to form, Sarah opened the story to the first page and read the familiar words. _I remember this. It was one of my favorite story books as a child._ Her free hand rested on her stomach and she looked down at it, "Do you want to hear a story, little prince?"

She smiled to herself. _I_ am _going crazy, talking to a something that probably doesn't even have ears._

The pain in her temples increased but, feeling a flash of stubborn ire, she began to read aloud, "Long ago, and not so long ago, there was a beautiful young woman. She caught the attention of the Goblin King, who granted unto her certain powers…"

####

Jareth pressed his face into the feather pillow, sun-warmed and sweet. He could smell almonds, sweet flowers, and that wild spice that meant—

"Sarah," he murmured, and his eyes snapped open.

He sat up in bed, the sheets pooling around his waist, and looked wildly around. He heard something in the bathing room beyond and leaped from the bed, throwing the covers into a tangled heap on the mattress. He crossed the room, his heartbeat loud in his ears, and entered the massive stone and tile room. The slap of his bare feet echoed and he stopped, straining his eyes and ears for a sign of her.

The room was silent. Empty.

Jareth sagged against the wall, hand raised to his chest where his heart galloped. Without thinking, he reached for her through the bond, expecting the same sensation of loss as he had over the last three moons.

But this time, something answered.

####

Each word she read made the pounding in her temples grow until it felt as though someone was chiseling away at her skull from the inside. Letting out a groan, Sarah dropped the book and clutched at her head, teeth gritted in a flash of rage and frustration. _Gods, what is happening to me?_

"No," Sarah whispered, her voice coming out strangled and hoarse. "No, I won't let you keep doing this to me."

Her limbs felt as heavy as if they were encased in concrete, but Sarah rose from the bed and staggered, her hand flung out. She could feel a hot, wet trickle coming from her ears and the corners of her eyes. The mug of tea crashed to the floor and shattered, soggy remains of the tea bag falling with a wet splat.

She could barely see past the haze of pain at her temples, but she moved toward the sliding glass door, mindful of the ceramic shards that littered the wood floor. Dimly, she heard the door to her room burst in.

"Sarah!" Larry called, crossing the room to grasp her elbow, his face a white mask of fear. "What—Steven, we have to get her to the doctor. Something's wrong."

She gritted her teeth and pulled her arm out of her friends' grasp. "No," she hissed through her teeth. She stumbled away from him, clutching the side of her face with one hand, and yanked open the sliding glass door.

Cool garden air washed over her, and her mind cleared minutely past the fog of agony washing from her temples down her spine. She fell to her knees in the dew-drenched grass, her fingers digging into the soil beneath her. Sweat poured down her back, and her heart hammered in her chest.

Larry and Steven followed her out and tried to pull her to her feet, but she shook them off, "Stop," she gasped. "I have to—"

"Honey, you need to go to the hospital," Steven said, his voice edged with panic.

"You're bleeding," Larry gasped, his tone high and frightened.

Sarah shook her head and looked down at her left hand, clenched around stalks of grass. She could see the mark on the skin of her pointer finger, dark and _there_. _It's real,_ she thought, _it's all real. Whatever is happening, it's—_

Renewed pain flashed through her and she gasped, her back arching, her friends' cries in her ears. She gritted her teeth against the sensation and looked down at her finger again, concentrating on it. She heard something—faint at first, but it grew the more she focused on it. A heartbeat, matching its rhythm to her own.

"I won't let you," she wheezed. "Whatever you are—"

She took a breath, and it felt as though the world took one with her. All sound ceased save for the steady, comforting thrum of a heartbeat echoing in her ears—the sound familiar and reassuring, lending her a thread of strength that she clutched at desperately.

####

"Quickly!" The knight shouted, and grasped Hoggle's hand, breaking his stunned stare as they watched Sarah stumble out to the garden, blood trickling from her eyes and ears, and her friends' hard on her heels.

"What's going on?"

Sir Didymus glanced back, "Our lady is waking! We must not abandon her now."

They stumbled out to the garden, brushing past the two men who lived with their queen. One of them started and looked around, then let out a hair-raising screech and stumbled against his partner. "What the _fuck_ are those things?!"

Hoggle cast a sneer at the one who had spoke, but the Knights' hand was still on his own, and they continued their mad dash toward Sarah. Hoggle could feel the growing pressure of magic in the air, and willed his stubby legs into a burst of speed, catching hold of her arm in the same instant as Sir Didymus.

Sarah raised her head to the sky the moment they touched her and screamed into the heavens. "You have no power over me!"

The world was torn asunder.

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 **A/N:** Did I mention I  illustrated a kiss between Sarah and Jareth? **You can find it by searching for deviantart username: dsberggren**

You all voted for it and I spent hours drawing it so, please, **go check it out!** (and then tell me what you thought in the comments section below)

 **Note regarding the drawing:** I know that it is not the position that was originally written about, but I went back and re-wrote that part to change it _and_ Jareth's outfit to fit the drawing. I also know I totally skipped out on the background. It _was_ there, kind of (just a bunch of flowery vines, really), but it didn't transfer to digitalization very well.

But, hey, it's the kiss that you all were interested in, right? The kiss it is, in all its glory.

As always, please **review.**


	19. Revelations and Refreshments

**A/N:** It's the second to the last chapter! It's almost over!

Main authors note below!

Please **read and review**.

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any of its characters. I do not profit from this story in any way.

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 **Chapter Nineteen**

 **'Revelations and Refreshments'**

Sarah spiraled through the mist, her hands outstretched, heavy weight pulling her ever downward. The world collided and exploded in bursts of colors and nebulous shapes, and though she reached she could never quite grasp them. They slipped through her fingers as sure as clouds.

 _I have to hit bottom at some point_ , she thought desperately and immediately felt her feet sink into cool, soft sand. The sensation was so startling that she stumbled and fell to her hands and knees, nothing but the pounding thrum of the surf in her ears.

She took in a deep, shaking breath and raised her head.

She was on a beach, just like the one where she had stood yesterday, but aside from the crash and roar of the waves, there was no other sound. No seagulls, barking dogs, or the racing footsteps of children. A small cottage sat not far from her, smoke curling out of a stone-walled chimney, nestled among the bluffs that rose up and disappeared into the mist.

A groan brought her attention around, and she almost screamed to see two creatures clinging to her, their eyes slit against the pale sunlight and their faces— _what kind faces are those?_ —twisted in pain and exhaustion.

She scuttled away from the figures, drawing her feet up under her, and raised a hand toward them, "Stay away from me," she warned, her voice high. "Stay right where you are!"

One of the creatures raised itself up, a patch covering one eye and whiskers, covered in fine sand, affixed to his long, narrow snout. "My lady," he said, his tone boarding on reproach. "Dost thou not recall your truest friends?"

Sarah took a breath to scream and then stopped. The furry little creature sat quite still, gazing at her without any air of menace. Its companion stirred and sat up, clutching its broad forehead in one large, weathered hand and mumbling to itself. Sarah caught a flash of color on the second creature's wrist and gave a start. "That's my bracelet," she heard herself say. "I thought I lost it years ago."

The bigger of the two stood and brushed sand from his patched breeches, mouth set in a hard frown, "Yous gave it to me, 'fore you tricked me out of me own jewels."

"My lady," the furrier of the two spoke. "May I approach?"

Sarah could not seem to help her nod, her fingers dug into the sand at her side. Something told her that these two peculiar beings meant her no harm and, since the last instinct she'd followed had broken the pain and brought her to this peaceful place, she trusted her intuition.

The little creature made its way carefully toward her, walking on the tips of his little pawed feet. When he was a few feet from Sarah, he took off his hat, somewhat crushed and the feather limp from the fall, and swept into a courtly bow. "I am Sir Didymus, loyal servant of the Goblin King and knight of the same kingdom. I have been tasked to bring you to His Majesty with all due haste, a quest which has been long and treacherous indeed."

So fascinated by the little fox creature, she had not noticed his companion's approach until he stood beside the knight. "And I'm Hoggle, yer friend," he held up his bracelet-clad wrist as though that settled the matter. "We've been lookin' fer you for months now."

"Months?" Sarah echoed, "Since when?"

"Ninety nights and days have passed since we began our quest," the knight supplied, bowing his head again. "Ninety days since you were taken from us."

"Taken? I don't understand, I—"

"Perhaps," said a clear, calm voice, "I can help explain matters." There was a pause while Sarah gazed up at the speaker, her mouth open in an astonishment mirrored by the two creatures beside her.

The speaker smiled, "Tea?"

####

Jareth's elation was tempered only by his impatience. He could feel her, ghostly and gossamer thin, but Sarah was _there_. The Labyrinth shifted, re-arranging its walls in a flurry of hope that mirrored that of its king.

Jareth conjured the mirror to his bedroom and, without bothering to fully dress, called out to his mother. Kabira was through the mirror in a moment, her eyes bright like jewels and a knowing smile curling her lips. She was back in her normal courtly attire, the precious stones and threads of pure gold and silver impeccable and brilliant in the mid-morning light. "My son," she greeted, "Do you feel her?"

The Goblin King gave a slight nod, "What has happened?"

"You have chosen well. Your Queen has broken the hold the demon had on her and is safe for the moment."

"Where," Jareth asked, his heart thundering in his chest. "Where is she, mother?"

Kabira shook her head, "Not yet."

Jareth took a step toward her and his mother held out a hand, "Now, now," she scolded. "Do not dare threaten me, son of mine, for I have done nothing but work tirelessly to restore your queen to you." She lifted her chin, a cold mask slipping across her features, "But there are powers to which even you and I must bend. Again, I caution patience. She is within your grasp, but she could fall out of it if you rush headlong into circumstances that you do not understand."

"If only I _could_ understand them," Jareth snarled, his fist clenched. "But I understand infuriatingly little about the game you have been playing."

"This is not a game, child," Kabira sniffed. "And if it were, it would be the most dangerous game, deadly to all but those who lay at its heart. Tread softly, my son, and be patient. She will be with you soon."

####

A fire crackled merrily in a large stone hearth, seashells and starfish set into the mortar where they shone white as bone. Sarah sat in a squashy armchair by the fire, a blanket tucked around her, a mug of hot tea grasped in her hands.

The woman from the beach busied herself with a tray of tea and cookies. Sarah watched her, feeling at once comforted and frightened. The woman had a sense of warmth to her that made Sarah want to trust her, but she also seemed like someone who was not to be toyed with. There was a sense of power that radiated from her, something at once large and indistinct.

The stranger came up to her with a soft, wet cloth in her hand, "Here, darling. You look a bit of a mess."

Sarah set down her tea on a small side table and took it, placing it against the skin of her face where the warmth and water helped wash away the sand and blood. The steam soothed and seemed to sweep away the last clinging bits of the pain. Sarah sighed and let her head fall back against the chair. When she opened her eyes the woman was sitting on the other side of the fireplace, her back to the flames, a thin smile curving her thick lips.

She folded the washcloth and set it next to the mug of tea. Sarah cleared her throat and glanced to where Sir Didymus and the dwarf stood, heads pressed together in a whispered huddle. "So… who are you?"

"Oh, how very rude of me," the woman smiled further. "You can call me Circe, dear. It will serve for now."

Sarah regarded the woman. She wore a loose gypsy skirt of yellows and gold, and a long-sleeved shirt with daggered sleeves, her sun-kissed brown hair falling in waves down her back. Sarah was sure she had never seen a woman so beautiful and found that she wanted to hide under a blanket, as though simply _being_ in Circe's presence was an affront to the natural order of things. She shook herself and reached for the mug of tea, inhaling the steam that rose from it. It smelled like chamomile and something else, something sweet and bitter. "Can I ask you some questions?"

"Of course, darling, I am at your service." Circe leaned against the hearth, her eyes half-closed.

Sarah took a deep breath, "I've been having… I've been so confused in the last few months. _Things_ keep happening to me, and every time they did—" she reached up and tapped her temple, "I had this horrible pain. And when I finally pushed past it I was _here,_ with _them,_ " she jerked a thumb at the two creatures who, upon her glance, stopped their talk and looked up. "What _are_ they, _where_ are we, and _what is happening_?"

Circe closed her eyes and smiled benignly, "There are many ways to answer your questions, Sarah dear, but I will start with the simplest." Her eyes opened and, with a start, Sarah realized they were two different colors—one a deep, penetrating amethyst and one a bright emerald green as her own. "Those two are your friends, as they said. They are citizens of the goblin kingdom, and you know them well, or, at least, you did before. They were with you during your little… _incident_ in the garden, but you were unable to see them." Her lips curled, "They found their way to you on behalf of the Goblin King, who has been absolutely sick with grief at your disappearance."

Sarah could feel her pulse hammering in her throat, "The Goblin King? The character in my favorite storybook—"

"Yes," Circe interrupted, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "I wonder why."

Sarah started to say something but was interrupted by the sudden presence of the knight and his companion at her elbow. "My lady," the fox said to her with a bow, "I must insist that we return to the goblin kingdom. The king—"

Circe's eyes hardened and Sarah felt a thrill of fear jump through her at the sight. The woman cleared her throat, "It is not yet time, little knight."

Sir Didymus turned his attention to the woman, opened his mouth to say something, and then stopped, his whiskers pointed forward and his narrow mouth set in a frown. Sarah saw his one eye widen as he took a step toward Circe, his body trembling. " _You_ —"

Circe flicked two fingers at the creatures, "Go home."

They disappeared with a faint _pop_.

Sarah nearly lost her tea to her lap, and the woman smiled at her again, her eyes once more showing nothing but warmth and affection. "I apologize. I had the feeling that the knight and his companion were going to turn the tide of the conversation somewhere it would be wiser not to venture." She tilted her head, "At least for now."

"But—" Sarah sputtered, "Are they okay?"

"Of course, darling. I sent them to their master," she straightened her back and stared fixedly at Sarah, "Now, where were we?"

####

There was a pop, a cry, and two small, sand-coated creatures fell into Jareth's bed. They tore off the hangings in their fall, and the heavy draperies crumpled atop them.

Jareth strode over and ripped the fabric free of the shouting, thrashing duo, "What in the name of all the gods are you doing in my bed chamber?"

Hoggle moved with a speed that the Goblin King had been unaware he possessed. Eyes wide as the Goblin King glowering down at him, he leaped from the bed as though it were made of hot coals instead of feathers, silks, and furs. When he turned to his king, his weathered face was ruddy and he sputtered, "I didn't mean it!"

Sir Didymus, the second creature who had intruded in his private chambers, was practically humming with suppressed rage, whiskers pointed forward and his single eye flashing. "That _horrible_ woman, she—"

Jareth cut him off, "Who?"

The Knight took a deep breath, saw where he was, and leaped off the bed in one single, graceful gesture, bowing low to his king. "Sire, we found our lady queen. She is in one of the between places with…" he paused and raised his head a trifle so that a single glint of black found Jareth's gaze. His voice pitched low, "I do not know if I dare say, sire."

The Goblin King ground his teeth and glanced at the dwarf, who was trying to wedge himself into a corner where he would be as small and unimposing as possible. "Get out," he growled and, without so much as a backward glance at the little knight, the dwarf fled. Jareth waited until the door swung shut behind the creature before turning the full force of his blue-green eyes on the knight. "You will tell me. Who is Sarah with?"

Sir Didymus quivered and straightened, pulling his bravery around him as surely as he would don armor to march into battle. "I may be incorrect in my assumption, my liege. I only saw her once, when my late father and noble mother took me to the royal court. Verily, there were many glittering sights, and I was but a kit, easily distracted—"

"Out with it, sir. You try my patience."

The knight swallowed audibly, and his whiskers drooped. He spoke barely above a whisper.

"I believe it was… High Queen Titania."

####

"Now," Circe said, her tone crisp, "Before we go about the business of giving you your memories back, I believe you had a few more questions."

Sarah nodded and tightened her grip on the mug, "First and foremost—why are you here? Did I know you before, like you say I knew Sir Didymus and Hoggle?"

She shook her head, "No, but I have… watched you for some years."

Sarah swallowed, "Watched me?"

Circe shrugged, " _I_ have watched and helped you for the last two moons, but there was another me before this—" she motioned at herself.

"I am not following."

The woman smiled, "Quite all right, dear, it really makes little difference." She nodded at the tea clasped in Sarah's hand, "You will drink the tea, won't you darling? I made it especially for you."

Sarah's eyebrows rose, "Now, doesn't that sound ominous?"

Circe laughed, the sound like clear water bubbling up from her throat, "Oh, sweetling, you have nothing to fear from me. We are in you demesne. I cannot harm you here."

Sarah's mouth felt suddenly dry, but she did not take a sip of the warm liquid within her grasp, "Okay, I'm starting to feel like a particularly slow child. Could you _please_ explain what you mean?" She took in a deep breath and let it out of her nose, trying to calm her thoughts, "I'm getting rather frustrated with all this circular talk."

The woman smiled at her. "This is your realm," Circe waved her hand around the cozy little cottage. "And I must say I find it absolutely _divine_. So many create these grand, imposing things that are horribly gauche and drafty, but you have a real flair for the dramatically understated." At Sarah's look, she continued, "It is _your_ sanctuary, as surely as I have hundreds of my own." She rose from the fireplace and lowered herself into an armchair that faced Sarah's so that their knees almost touched. "This is the wide space, the void, the between. Here there is enough for all of our kind to shape little peaceful places. _You_ created this when you broke the hold of that little demon in your head."

Circe tapped her finger against her temple as though to illustrate the point and smiled, her eyes glittering. "Would you like to see it?"

Sarah felt her body trembling and, licking her lips, whispered, "There's something _living_ in my head?"

The woman nodded, "Yes, darling. That's where all those dreadful little headaches were coming from."

Bile rose in the back of her throat and Sarah swallowed hard, _there's something_ living _inside of my head?_ With the thought came the sensation of something shifting against the back of her skull, and Sarah had to set the mug down before she spilled it. "No," she said when she had composed herself a little, her voice shaking. "No. I don't want to see it."

Circe shrugged and leaned back in her chair, "Suit yourself. Where were we?"

"My memories? And why _you_ are here. What do you want with me?"

The woman smiled again, and then bent forward and brushed her fingers against Sarah's knee. "Drink your tea, Sarah dear, and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

There was an unmistakable _pull_ about the woman's voice, which seemed to echo from her touch, and Sarah found the rim of the cup at her lips before she could give it a second thought. The tea was flavorful but with an edge of bitterness that almost made her lips pucker. When she lowered the mug, almost all of the liquid had been drunk, and Sarah felt an immediate, drowsy warmth flood through her from her throat outward.

"There we go, darling, that wasn't so hard," Circe cupped her chin in her hand and winked at Sarah. "While I cannot harm you, my dear, I can neither tell you the whole truth unless I have a little insurance." She waved her free hand at Sarah's nearly-empty mug, "This will ensure that you retain the _idea_ of what passes between us now, but not the details. Details, sweetling, are dangerous."

The woman stood and plucked the cup from Sarah's warm fingers, setting it down on the table and picking up the washcloth that had been discarded. Without another word, she began to wipe at Sarah's face, the motions soft and gentle.

 _I can't,_ Sarah thought drunkenly, _I can't seem to move, but… it feels so good._

Circe ran her fingers through Sarah's hair, her gaze thoughtful, and then she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, her hand falling to graze the light swell of the baby in her belly. When the woman pulled away, Sarah almost ached at the loss of her nearness, "Now, daughter mine, let me tell you a story."

As Circe spoke, the lights in the cabin seemed to dim, and in the shadows Sarah could have sworn she saw shapes that accompanied the tale, growing in detail the longer she looked at them. She sighed, lost in the warm, mellow voice of the woman who wove the tale.

"Many, many millennia ago, the stars came down from heaven to rest upon the earth, bringing their magic with them. There they created a land that stretched between one world and another, and they called it by the name of their leaders.

"The Summerland was a place of gaiety, where the inhabitants sang and laughed and danced under the sun and moon. The Nightland was a place of deep shadows, dark lore, and hidden mysteries. For a long time, the two lived in peace with one another, but that peace did not last.

"War came to the land, and the two peoples battled against one another. After many generations, the Summerland was triumphant. The Nightland was no more, and neither were its people—or so we thought.

"For in the midst of that final battle, there was born a child of the King and Queen of Night, and that child was secreted away to the court of the Summerland, to be raised in the light. But as the child grew, it was apparent that he was not of the same heart as those who surrounded him. Confused and angry, the child discovered his true lineage and vowed revenge for the deaths of his people.

"Along his travels, the child who was now a man discovered an ancient prophecy, writ large in the very bones of his people's land. The prophecy spoke of a meeting between heaven and earth, and of the child that would be born to the union. That child, it was said, would meet with a son of the stars, and they would create a new life. This babe would mean the renewal, or the death, of an entire world.

"The Nightland man began to search in earnest for those who would fulfill the prophecy. He invaded the minds of lesser species and twisted events to fall in his favor, all the while growing in his power and control. And then he discovered a secret, one dearly kept and closely hidden, of a child born to the Queen of Summer.

"The queen, too, knew of the prophecy, and hid her child, for she had heard whispering that one of the Nightland peoples was still alive. The queen parted with her child though it pained her grievously to do so. The child was placed among humans in the mortal world, gifted to a man and a woman who otherwise would not have conceived. There, the queen hoped that her daughter would live a far better life removed from the dangers of her birth land.

"But that was not to be. Fate willed that the child discovers a book, a book that would lead her to one of the kingdoms of the star land. She conquered the kingdom and its king. She grew and learned many things during her journey, not knowing that the man from the Nightland watched her every step.

"When the girl returned to the mortal world, the creature turned his schemes toward the conquered kingdom and its liege. He knew that the king of the land would bring the girl back, for though he did not feel love, he still knew it when he saw it. The Nightland demon took two creatures that had illusions of grandeur. He twisted them and bent them to his will, using them to hurt the king who would then go out in search of the girl.

"So then, one day many years later, the girl who was now a woman was drawn back into the conquered kingdom at the behest of its king. They set out on a quest to restore the kingdom from the manipulations of the Nightland though they knew naught that this was their true purpose. During their journey they found their love again and, on their last day together, created a life.

"The Nightland creature used his dark magic to take hold of the woman's mind and bring her back to the mortal world with no memory of the events that had passed. There, it was his design to take over the prophesized baby's power as it was born, so that he could finally destroy the court of Summerland and revive that of his own people.

"But," Circe concluded, and out of the corner of her eye, Sarah could see the wane smile that split her face. "The Queen of Summer found the creature out and lent her magic to the woman. And… you were much more than he bargained for."

The dream-like haze still held her firmly in its grasp, but Sarah turned her head toward the woman. She noticed that as she did so, the lights began to brighten until the shadows and their shapes were only a fleeting memory. She blinked, the movement difficult as though she were under water, and when she spoke her voice sounded far away. "Why?"

Circe rose and stretched her long arms over her head, then walked toward Sarah once more. She reached out and drew a finger down her cheek with a feather-light touch, "You are the scion of a high queen and a god. You have a very… different type of magic than what the demon-Fae was used to."

Sarah tried to shake her head, but the movement seemed too difficult. She rolled her eyes up to look at the woman, "But… why did she—why did I—have to grow up in the mortal world?"

Circe knelt down in front of Sarah and took her hands in both of her own, "Because the queen fell in love with a god, not her husband. The child she bore would have been killed if the high king ever knew of her and, of course, the queen knew of the prophecy." She squeezed Sarah's fingers, and her duo-colored eyes glittered. Her next words were barely a whisper, "If I had known of any other way, I would have kept you. But I am so _proud_ of the woman you have become."

Sarah felt a single hot tear slide down her cheek, and she tried to squeeze back, but her body would not obey her commands. Even now, the dreamy-drunk feeling stole over her, snatching at the details of Circe's story, shrouding the story in a fog.

The woman stood abruptly and released Sarah's hands. "There is still one thing left to do, my dear before you make your choice."

"What choice?" Sarah murmured.

"Why, the choice of where you will go from here. Do you return to the mortal world, to have your child there and bring him up to rid that world of its ills? Or do you return to your lover, and breathe life back into Faerie through your issue? The choice is yours, my dear."

Circe snapped her fingers and a crystal jar appeared in her hand, its multi-faceted surface catching the light and splitting it into prisms that sparkled and danced across every surface. The woman inspected the vessel, tipping it this way and that, before she let out a low murmur of approval and twisted off its metal top. She set the open container on the table next to Sarah and looked down at her, "This may feel a tad… strange, my dear, but do try to keep still."

Without another word of explanation, Circe reached out, and Sarah could _feel_ her fingertips pressing on and then _through_ her skull. The sensation was like nothing she had ever felt before, almost like an itch or a tickle along the inside of her head. She wanted to reach up and bat away the offending limbs, but her body stubbornly refused to listen to her.

Circe gave a self-satisfied little sound and Sarah felt something snag, like a fine cloth against splintered wood. Then there was the feel of something being pulled out of her brain, bit by bit, spindling loose with nauseating little tremors.

Sarah did not know how long it took before Circe removed her hands, as difficult as it was to tell time with the hazy dream-fog wrapped around her, but it felt like hours. Circe did not speak the entire time, her body tense and still.

When she pulled her hands away, there was an inky sludge coating her fingers. Circe made a face and rolled it off her fingers and between her palms until it was the size of a plum. Then, without any further ceremony, she plunked it into the crystal container and stopped the top with the metal cap.

Sarah watched, fascinated, as the little ball unraveled within the crystalline depths and threw itself against the walls of its glass prison. It roiled like a liquid one moment, licking up the interior, and then became a solid, striking the glass with a barbed scorpion-like tail. Circe snickered and tapped the glass, "Cut that out, you."

Looking up at the woman, Sarah blinked, "That was what was inside my head?"

Circe nodded and picked up the crystal container, "This will keep him out of trouble for a while." She cast a speculative look at Sarah and smiled, "I had a lovely time catching up with you, darling, but I fear it is my time to go."

Sarah managed to lift a hand, "No, please—I don't know what to do now."

She smiled and tucked the container into the crook of her arm, "Don't fret, darling. Sleep now. When you wake, you'll make your decision."

With that, she disappeared.

Sarah looked around the cottage, which felt so empty it made her heart hurt, but soon found her eyelids heavy. She sank down into the armchair, raising the blanket to her chin, and shut her eyes. Within a moment, she was asleep.

####

Kabira glanced up as Circe entered her private chambers. She had a crystal container in her hands, and a sad smile on her lips. Kabira rose from her writing desk and curtseyed low, "My lady."

Circe set the crystal on the desk and waved a dismissive hand, "Could you find a place for that thing, Kabira? Somewhere dark and out of the way, preferably."

She eyed the creature within, lips curled in distaste, "Of course, my queen."

Circe shuddered, and her clothing shifted into elaborate court attire, cloth of gold falling heavy over her shoulders to pool on the floor at her feet, a crown of pure, deep gold fixing itself to her hair. Her body changed a little as well, growing taller and filling out, until she was once again the radiant, well-known figure of the High Queen of the Summerland.

Kabira smiled a little to herself as she picked up the container, "Did all go well, my lady?"

Titania looked down her nose at her advisor, her tone like ice compared to that of her other form. "Of course. Now go on, I want that thing out of my sight. Permanently."

Kabira wanted to ask whether the girl would return to the Aboveground, or if she would remain in Faerie but bit her tongue. _Caution and patience,_ she counseled herself, _what will be, will be._

####

Sarah woke slowly, rising out of a dreamless sleep to the scent of wood smoke.

 _Wood smoke._

Her eyes snapped open and she cried out, clutching a hand to her head, her body falling off the squashy armchair to land on the hard wooden floor. _Oh, gods,_ she thought, _what happened to me?_

There was a vague awareness that her questions had been answered. That something important had happened to her head, but beyond that and its subsequent feeling of peace, there was little that Sarah remembered after she had drunk the tea the afternoon before. She looked around, but Circe was nowhere in sight. Even that woman's face and form were fading from her memory, and—

 _And she's not the one I should be looking for._

Sarah rose off the floor and stood, her hand coming to rest on the rise of her stomach. _The baby is special,_ she thought, _so very special._ She could not remember why, only knew that she had to protect it. If she knew who the father was—

 _The father—_

An image of mismatched eyes flashed before hers, and with it came a storm of memories that almost had her on the floor again. All the events that had transpired before she had woken, clueless, from the floor of Michael's living room, crashed into her. Sarah looked down at her hands and saw the dark line circling her left ring finger, fine and thin as spider's silk. Her skin glowed like alabaster and, she knew without looking, that her eyes would mirror those that had brought on the wave of memories.

 _Jareth._

She swallowed hard, straightening, and spoke his name out loud. It echoed in the empty room.

####

Jareth lounged against the back of his throne, hand cupped to his face so that he did not see the empty seat beside him. The goblin petitioner stood before him, cap clasped in his little hands, and drawled on and on about the chickens his neighbor had allegedly stolen. The neighbor in question stood nearby, glowering with reddened ears as his character was uncharitably described.

The Goblin King's mouth tilted in a small smile, but his mind was not in the work. These were the last of the petitioners for the day, and their grievances were small compared to those that came at the start. Shaa had come before him earlier that day and described a new cluster of rebels that had escaped the recent purge, and requested assistance from Jareth to route any outliers from the deeps. Jareth had acquiesced with pleasure, not wanting to have a repeat of the events leading up to Dionysus.

Thoughts drifting, he almost didn't hear it.

Clear as a bell, an unmistakable summoning. He lifted his head and tilted it toward the sound. _Jareth_ , it came as a whisper on the wind, heard in his ears only. His heart leaped and, reaching through the bond, he followed the thread and the summons back to their owner.

He disappeared from the goblin throne, the outraged cries of the petitioner the last sound he heard before he slipped into the between place.

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 **A/N:** **Please remember to check out the scene I illustrated from the kiss in the Queens Garden. You can find it by searching for my deviantart username: dsberggren.**

Thank you to all my reviewers, and to those who re-read the story up to the last chapter. I have to apologize again for that inconvenience, but I'm glad that most of you seemed to enjoy some of the changes that were made.

 **MyraVallhala** **:** Thank you for your kind words, and I'm glad that you enjoyed the re-read! I do like to end chapters on cliff-hangers. Since I write original stories, I'm always looking for the 'hook' that will make potential readers want to get to the next chapter as quickly as possible.

 **TheLifeAndTimesOfANerd** **:** So glad that you've enjoyed the story, and thank you for sharing with your friend! Your comment made me smile :)

 **Mauraudergurl2010** **:** So happy to see you back again! No, I would not have been scared away if you'd poked me to see if I was alive. Since you inquired; there really is nothing special going on with Larry and Steven. Sarah wasn't able to see Hoggle and Sir Didymus because of the goo in her head, but L  & S were around her doing magic and managed to catch a glimpse. I just wanted a bit of a comedic moment.

As always, lovelies, please **read and review**. I  see you lurkers! Shoot me a sentence or two to let me know what you think!

Cheers!


	20. In Your Eyes

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any of its characters. I do not profit from this story in any way.

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 **Chapter Twenty**

 **'In Your Eyes'**

The place was deathly silent.

A fire had burned out in the hearth, the faint tang of wood smoke perfuming the air and, along with it, the heavy, thick remnants of strong magic.

Jareth sucked in a breath, his body tight as a bowstring as he regarded his love across the room, her fingers gripping the back of the chair so tight that her knuckles had turned white. Seeing her there, so warm, alive, and _real_ , made his chest constrict painfully.

He wanted nothing but to cross the room in a few long strides and pull her into his arms, to breathe in the scent of her hair, to feel her skin beneath his, to hold her and never let her go. _She is so close_ , he thought, _and yet…_

Her shoulders were tight, her face flush and her eyes glittering. So near to her, he could feel the edge of her emotions through the bond. He wanted to reach through it and reassure her, to wrap her in his love and the overwhelming relief at seeing her alive and whole, but he was afraid of frightening her.

"Sarah," he said softly, willing his body to be still. "You called."

"Don't," she said, her voice high and almost panicked. "Don't come any closer. I—" There was a scraping sound as her nails dug still further into the fabric of the chair. He could see that she was shaking and, through their bond, feel the edge of her panic. "Oh gods, _we_ …"

She took a deep breath and, as she exhaled, seemed to deflate, her shoulders slumped forward. She ran a hand through her sleep-mussed hair and glanced at him beneath dark lashes. When she spoke, her voice quavered at the edges, "I—I didn't know if you, if the Labyrinth and the duel, were real or if—" her breath hitched, "I am _really_ tired of people fucking with my head."

He gave a slight smile and took a step toward her, grateful when she did not back away, "You remember it all?"

She nodded, then shook her head and scrubbed at her face with her hands. They fell to her thighs and she stared at him, gaze distant, "We—oh, Jareth." She touched her stomach lightly and took a hesitant step toward him. He mirrored the movement until they stood only a few feet from each another. She frowned at him and placed her hands on her hips, her expression darkening. "I'm still mad at you, you know."

 _Oh, my love,_ he thought, _I will happily fall at your feet, so long as I can hear your voice._ His smile widened, "Are we to have the promised argument now?"

She shook her head, "Not yet." She sighed and her hand touched her stomach again. He followed the movement, frowning. "There's something you need to know."

They closed the space between them until a bare six inches remained. He looked down at her face, tilted up to study him. There was a little frown line between her brows, and her blue and green eyes shone as she considered him. She took a deep breath and reached out for his hand. The touch was electric, the sensation coursing up his arm and down his spine. He sucked in a breath and felt his body tremble, the desire to close the gap and have her in his arms a screaming, physical need.

She gently placed his hand low on her stomach, her eyes locked on his. With a jolt, he realized what she was trying to say, and felt his eyes widen. She finally smiled, "I think we should have discussed contraceptives."

 _To hell with the cautious approach_ , he thought savagely. He reached out and crushed her to him, his body trembling as he felt her warmth. He pressed his face into her hair, inhaled deeply, and the breath left him in a shaking rush. With their touch, the bond surged, her feelings flooding into him—confusion, anger, fear but, stronger than all the rest, her love. Soon it was all he felt.

####

Sarah wrapped her arms around him and clutched him tight against her. "I knew," she murmured into his chest, "That there was something— _someone_ —missing. I dreamed of you every night, even though I never saw your face."

His grip tightened in her hair, and when he moved back enough to look at her, she reached up and cupped his cheek, her lips curled in a smile. "The Goblin King cries? I'd never have thought."

She tried to step away but his grip tightened, "No," he said, his voice hoarse. "I can't—not yet."

Sarah lowered her head to hide her smile but did not try to pull away again. She leaned into his chest, letting her hand rest over where his heart thudded loud and sure. _This was the sound that brought me back,_ she thought. She breathed in the earthy, exotic scent of him and felt all the tension leave her body.

He felt like home.

She took another breath, and then another. "Jareth?"

"I'm here."

She smiled at him, "Not that I'm not _happy_ about remembering everything, and being with you, but we have to talk about this child."

The silence stretched between them for a moment, and then Jareth let out a sigh. Releasing her enough so that he could look down at her face, he let his hands trail from her shoulders down to lace his fingers in hers. Sparks sizzled between them at the touch, and Sarah felt herself shiver in response. His gaze was fathomless, and through their bond, she could feel the crushing loneliness, the desperate hope, and the abiding love that roiled within him.

He pulled her to the little loveseat and sat her on his lap, his arms wrapped around her as though she were the only solid thing in the world. He pressed a gentle kiss against her neck, "What would you have us speak on? You will bear my child, and I—" he paused, "I expected we would have more time before any such occurrence, but I am… happy."

The strands of his hair fell through her fingers, soft and warm from his body. "I want this child to be safe," she started, a stone settling in her gut as she considered her next words. "But every time I've gone to your world, there's been one thing or another that has threatened me, or us, and… " she sighed, "I don't want him to come to any harm." Jareth's arm tightened around her waist, and his mouth pressed hard against her throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. She trembled again, and suddenly found it more difficult to concentrate on the line of her thoughts. "Stop that," she whispered.

He growled against her skin, "No." She felt his lips curl into a smile, and his hand began to play at the edge of her shirt, teasing it up so that he could stroke the smooth skin of her stomach. "You are afraid for your child, as any mother would be." He leaned back so that he looked into her eyes, "Do you really think the Aboveground, with all of its wars and violence, would be any different?"

"Well, yes. I—I was put there because it was safer."

He frowned at her, "How do you know?"

She shook her head, "I'm not sure _how_ I know, I just do." She sighed and tried to push Jareth's hand out from under her shirt, even though his movements were comforting and sweet. He did not budge. "Look, I just think that—maybe—it would be better if I brought the child up in the Aboveground. At least, until he would be able to defend himself."

Jareth's voice rumbled again and he turned her on his lap so that she was forced to open her legs and straddle his waist. His hands came down to rest on her hips and he stared up at her. Through their bond, she could feel a thread of anger and, masking that, fear. " _No,_ " he said, a hint of power lacing the word. "I will bring seers to our court. I will place a guard of a hundred men around the child. I will cement old alliances and create new ones. I will posture, I will maneuver, manipulate, and threaten my way into a position of such authority and power that no one dares touch my family." His fingers dug into her skin and she gasped, the touch riding the edge of pain and pleasure. "I _will not_ stand idly by while you raise _my heir_ away from me."

"You could always come to—"

His grip tightened still further, and Sarah writhed against him, trying to pull his hands away. He was immovable. "No," he stated simply. "I am the Goblin King, and my place is with my kingdom. You are my queen, hailed as such by our citizens and chosen by the Labyrinth itself. This child will be a prince." He took a breath and brought his body forward so it burned against hers, his face a breath away. When he spoke, his words were hard and clipped, "I will not be parted from you again."

Sarah opened her mouth to argue, but his lips closed on hers, and all thought seemed to vanish. Her hands came up to bury in his hair, and for several heavenly moments, it was all she could do to hold on to the notion of who she was. He was wrapped around her, his scent, his body, and his presence all there was to the world.

They came apart with a gasp and a growl, their bodies locked together and their foreheads touching. Sarah took a deep, shaking breath, and let it out slowly. "I don't know how this works," she whispered, "I don't know how to be a parent. I don't know how to be a queen, and… I don't know how to be with someone like you." _I don't know if I've ever wanted someone this much_. The thought was difficult to swallow, but she leaned against it just as she leaned against him. _I don't know if I can lose you again, either._

Those months that they had spent apart were very much alive in her thoughts. She had decided to raise her child alone, not knowing where its father was or how to find him. During their separation, she had learned how to stand on her own in a new, unfamiliar place. _A little like preparation for accepting the goblin queenship, I suppose_ , she thought wryly. _But I had never thought that those missing memories could have been something like this—something so frightening and fantastic and wonderful._

He rubbed his nose against hers and then touched her lips in the gentlest of kisses. "We will find the way together, my love."

Sarah felt tears sting hot against her closed lids and leaned back so that she could look at him. His eyes searched hers, and they shone like topaz and emerald framed by his flyaway silver hair. They stayed like that for a time, the world falling away until it was only the two of them, his hands on her and hers on him, their hearts beating as one. Sarah could feel the bond strengthen even further, and knew now the ocean of loneliness he had almost drowned in, the desperation he had felt as the days she was out of reach ticked by. And his love, great and immovable as mountains, depths and leagues of it that reached out and embraced her.

Her head spun at the sensation, and she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, her breath leaving her with a sigh. The kiss was soft, sweet. It was the promise of a thousand more to come. Something deep within her clicked into place, and she poured her silent vow that she would remain with him, now and always, past his lips and into him.

Soon he pressed more insistently at her, and his hands began to roam over her body, caressing, and pulling, slipping beneath the fabric to trace tantalizingly against her skin. Sarah felt an answering heat from deep within and returned his attentions in kind.

They were wordless in their lovemaking. Every movement was both frenzied and unhurried as they drank in the sight, sound, and feel of the other. Through it all their eyes found one another, their smiles lighting the room and chasing away the last shreds of fear and doubt in their hearts.

####

The scent of her was thick in the air. He traced a lazy circle over her bare back and felt the reverberation in his chest as she purred against him. Lips curved up in a smile, he broke their long silence, "Sarah?" She made a nonverbal noise against his chest, her head tucked up under his chin so that her hair tickled along his jaw. He reached up and smoothed some of those silken locks behind her ear. "When we get back, I'm going to lock you in my bed chamber for a week."

She laughed and stretched against him, one of her hands roaming the planes of his body to rest against his neck. "You have to feed me first."

He grasped at the stuff of her world and brought a peach to hand, extending it to her. She rolled her eyes but took the ripe fruit in her long fingers, "Is this going to be a running gag from you?"

He sniffed, "Nonsense. Expectant mothers should eat plenty of fresh peaches. It's a fact."

She raised her eyebrows, "Oh, is it?"

"Yes," he said, the humor falling into his tone despite his best efforts. "I shall give you barrels of peaches, my dear. I will bathe you in peach juice, and lick it from your skin with—"

"Down boy," she teased. With a little groan she lifted herself off of him and sat up, her arms stretched over her head and her breath leaving her with a contented sigh. She looked over her shoulder at him, "I have to ask—will I be able to visit my friends and family in the Aboveground? Larry and Steven are probably freaking out, and I don't know how the rules work."

He ran a bare fingertip along the curve of her spine, his eyes dark as he saw the gooseflesh rise on her skin at his touch. "We'll have to see about that. I, myself, cannot go Aboveground unless summoned. You, however—you seem to be a different story entirely."

She took a bite of the peach and her lips, red from their kisses, glistened wetly. Jareth sat up and leaned over to lick the sweet nectar from her and she giggled, pushing him away gently. "You're never going to let up, are you?"

He took the peach from her hand and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, bringing her face to his. "Never," he whispered, and pulled her back on top of him to trail kisses along every part of her he could touch.

She struggled half-heartedly for a few moments before she returned his affection, her nails skimming along his skin to rouse a rumble from his throat. The fruit fell from his fingers to roll across the floor, forgotten. She let out a low bubble of laughter, "We have to go back sometime," she stated.

He flipped her so that she lay under him, her body already slick and warm to accommodate him. "Not yet," he said and claimed her once again for his own.

####

Jareth brought them to the gates of the city. They wore matching outfits of white and gold. Sarah went for a more understated appearance, clad in tight white trousers and a loose-fitted blouse with a golden belt around her waist. Her only concessions to Jareth's flamboyant fashion sense were the tall boots that wrapped her calves and the delicate crown atop her head. He bedecked himself in the same outfit that he had worn when confronting her at the end of her Labyrinth run when she was fifteen.

With a flash of warmth to her cheeks, Sarah admitted to herself that she found it even more distracting this time around.

Arm and arm, they walked through the bustling goblin metropolis. Sarah gasped at the tall, stately manners of the more well-to-do goblin families, the wide, clean cobblestone parkways, and the lush gardens that had been safely tucked away when she had come through the Labyrinth the first time. In the distance, the castle loomed, but they walked, unhurried, through the streets.

Soon the city goblins caught wind of the impromptu procession, and the streets lined with their subjects. They cried out and cheered. The ale flowed freely, and Sarah was showered with droplets as they toasted her arrival. She laughed and smiled at them, reaching out to touch those who put their arms out to her as she passed. Chicken feathers and flowers warred for dominance to be the carpet she walked on, raining down from second story windows and catching in their hair.

All in all, the sun was low on the horizon by the time she and Jareth mounted the steps to the castle. As one, they turned to look out over the accumulated mass of their citizens, each individual raising their voice in a roaring cheer.

The Goblin King and Queen lifted their interlaced hands into the air. Sarah smiled broadly beside Jareth's imperial expression, and she saw the wide grins of her subjects echo hers. _They seem to like me well enough_ , she thought.

As though in answer to her thoughts, she felt a gentle nudge at the back of her mind and the Labyrinth was suddenly there. It rolled through her and, for all the world, seemed like it enveloped her in a warm embrace. With it, she tasted something metallic on the back of her tongue, as the Labyrinth poured some of its magic into her.

White owl feathers fell out of the sky around the monarchs and, with a flash like lightning, Sarah's neck was adorned once again with the gold and silver sickle-shaped symbol of the kingdom. Through the corner of her eye, she saw that Jareth had a crystal clasped in his free hand.

They shared a look, and Jareth's mouth quirked in the barest hint of a smile. The Labyrinth stirred at the back of their minds and, for the first time in decades, was content.

####

Sir Didymus was appointed as the head of Sarah's personal guard. Upon hearing of his queen's 'condition,' the little fox-terrier swelled with pride. While he was, at times, a little overzealous in his approach to safeguarding the queen and future heir, Sarah and Jareth had to admit that he was extremely competent at the job.

The knight hand-picked six goblins that, unlike their superior, managed to blend into the background unobtrusively. The goblins were of the warrior caste, up from the deeps, and did not seem to like direct sunlight as much as their city counterparts. Despite this, they were ever watchful and, after Sarah got used to the feeling of being followed, she had to admit that she felt better with them around. She made a point to learn each of their names and a little bit about them. Eventually, she gained their respect, if not their friendship, which made their company infinitely more enjoyable.

Hoggle, on the other hand, went back to his gardening duties with fervor. Sarah visited him often. The dwarf seemed to revive as he carefully pruned, weeded, and fertilized the many varied parks and gardens throughout the Labyrinth. He took particular satisfaction in his work in the Queens Garden, where the flowers seemed to stretch and preen under his attentions.

At Sarah's insistence, Hoggle brought a few other dwarves in to help with the enormous amount of work. He stalwartly refused to hire goblins, "They's much better at destroyin' things then growin' 'em," he grumbled. And, though each of the dwarves under his care were fastidious and talented, he refused to let anyone tend the Queens Garden but him.

Ludo, however, was conspicuous in his absence. Sarah inquired about his whereabouts with Jareth, but the Goblin King had merely shrugged and said, "Your friend is not all that he seems." Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Sarah pressed him further, but he simply would not budge on the subject. "I am sure it will be made clear to you in time," he said enigmatically.

####

While Jareth was true to his word that he would lock them both in his bedchamber; their honeymoon period was interrupted daily by correspondence from neighboring kingdoms, small but important goblin emergencies and, eventually, a summons to the high court.

Jareth read the invitation with a pensive frown. Sarah came up behind him to read over his shoulder, her cheek pressed against his. He had learned that she would not be distracted away from the goings-on of royal responsibilities—she had read every text on goblin history and Fae lore she could put her hands upon, staying up late into the night to do so. Her eyes were often red-rimmed from pouring over the dusty old tomes, but he did his best to tempt her back to bed when he caught her at it passed the witching hour.

Each day she sat beside him on the horned throne and, when she felt the need arose, issued her own proclamations regarding the kingdom and its citizens. Typically she did so with an uncanny knack toward understanding when he was left grasping at a tangled web of implications and possibilities.

Sarah had appointed counselors and enforcers that the goblins could appeal to on smaller matters, effectively freeing the monarchy from taking a personal hand in every matter to do with the kingdom's citizens. They now had regular meetings with the advisors in lieu of extended petition hours, and the kingdom was running more like a well-oiled machine. Jareth had found no fault with her solutions thus far, and was both awed and inspired by her natural talent for statesmanship.

"That's not a lot of time to appear," Sarah said, making quick work of the heavy vellum still clasped in his fingers. "Why do they want us there?"

"I suppose," Jareth drawled, dropping the letter so that he could reach up and stroke her cheek, "They want to vet you themselves. It is not often that an unknown quantity enters Faerie and sets up as an acting monarch."

"Hm," Sarah murmured, "Do you foresee any problems?"

He shook his head, "You are the first Goblin Queen in several thousand years. The Labyrinth has accepted you, and your subjects love, trust, and fear you. They would rise en masse against the high throne if Titania and Oberon pronounced your claim untenable." His hand brought her around to face him, and she leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his lips. "But you are a curiosity, love. I believe you will be for many years."

Sarah slid into his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck, "Do I have to wear a dress?"

His queen had been most adamantly against traditional court attire, preferring instead to dress in what she called 'practical' clothing. "It is seen as the polite thing to do."

She sniffed, "Very well." She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his, "And anyway, I have the feeling you've wanted to dress me up for weeks now."

####

Their trip to the high court was largely uneventful. Dazzled by the sights, Sarah clung to Jareth, who appeared nonplussed at the wealthy excess. They stayed in the court chambers appointed to visiting dignitaries, and Jareth introduced her to his mother, Kabira, that night at their private dinner.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear," the woman said, her voice measured and calm.

"And you," Sarah said, feeling ridiculous in the heavy, constricting court clothing. "It's nice to finally meet some of the family."

Kabira was short with her words, but her gaze often fell on Sarah during their evening meal. Sarah could not help but feel that she was visually dissected by the woman, as though her every movement and word would be weighed and calculated later. Possibly with notes.

They told Kabira of the child they were expecting and, for the first and only time, The Goblin King and Queen saw the woman's face split into a wide, bright smile. She had reached over and grasped Jareth's hand in her own, and for once even her calm, careful words could not express whatever emotion she was feeling, and she merely beamed at them.

Jareth, after this announcement, withdrew behind a coolly imperious exterior. Later, when they were alone, Sarah plied him with sweet words and gestures, but he remained aloof until she stood over his reclined figure, hands on her hips, and demanded an explanation for his reserve.

He let out a deep sigh and reached for her hand, his expression relaxing by degrees. His thumb skimmed over her knuckles before he brought her hand to his lips to lay a gentle kiss. "I was raised within these walls, my love. They were not the best of times."

"Oh," Sarah breathed, and stepped closer, her hand sweeping through his hair to bring his face up to hers. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his forehead, and then in a trail down that ended at his lips, "I'm sorry."

He reached up and pulled her onto his lap, burying his face in her hair and wrapping his arms securely around her. The beads and jewels of her gown scratched against his skin, but if he minded he did not say. He let out a long sigh, "Just… understand that I have to be on my guard in this place, especially when I have you with me." His mismatched eyes found hers, and his lips quirked in a wry smile, "I have the feeling you're going to create quite the stir among the nobility here."

"Really?"

He drew a finger along her collarbone and swept downward toward the cut of her gown, "Oh, yes. A seemingly ordinary woman from the mortal world comes into magical abilities and steals the heart of a Goblin King? And she won her position through blood and battle." He leaned forward and laid a gentle kiss against her pulse point, "Many here would consider themselves dangerous, but you've proven yourself deadly right out of the gate."

Sarah wrapped her fingers in his hair and let out a small sound against his gentle kisses, each one sending a line of fire snaking through her. "Is that a good thing?"

He breathed a low laugh against her skin, his skillful fingers making quick work of the laces at her back, "It's always a good thing to have a dangerous reputation."

They spent the night in each other's arms, wrapped in the comforting, familiar presence of each other within the glittering walls of the high court. Sarah was determined to give her love new, better memories of the place. When he finally collapsed into an exhausted sleep, she smiled coyly to herself, rested her head against his chest, and was at peace.

The next day Sarah was presented to High King Oberon and High Queen Titania in a formal ceremony. Few words were spoken and, for all their fears, the high seat seemed to have no intention of removing the new Goblin Queen from her station. Oberon looked, largely, bored with the entire process. Titania, on the other hand, seemed to consider Sarah for a long few moments. Her eyes, purple and green, gave Sarah a start. _I feel like I've seen them before._ Titania bestowed her blessing on the new Goblin Queen before promising her a coronation gift and dismissing the pair.

Later, Sarah inquired why they had to make such a trip to be in the royal presence for a few brief moments. Jareth shrugged and said, "Some niceties must be observed. All things considered, this went better than expected. No one can dispute your claim now that you have acceptance from the high seat."

Titania's gift arrived in the castle beyond the goblin city a few days after their return. It was a large mirror in a heavy gilt frame. It might have looked perfectly at home among the décor of the high court, but once among the plain stone and wood of the goblin kingdom, Sarah found it ostentatious and unwieldy. Jareth put it in their mutual study, a place where no goblins were allowed to roam, and considered it for a long few moments, running his fingers along the frame and murmuring under his breath.

"What is it?" Sarah asked, coming up to stand beside him.

Jareth turned his face to hers, "A most expensive present." He took her hand and placed it gently on the mirrored surface. Sarah jerked it away when her fingers seemed to press _into_ the mirror, whose surface was warm as bath water. Her lover smiled wide at her reaction, his sharp teeth bared at the corner of his mouth. "You wanted to see your family, did you not? This is a portal mirror. I have one like it, but it only allows me to contact family. This one should allow you to venture anywhere you wish if my assessment is correct."

The mirror did, indeed, take Sarah to and from Aboveground. On her first experiment, she returned to the beach in Ventura, north of Los Angeles, where she had stood after realizing she could not go through with terminating her pregnancy. Jareth followed her, shifting his clothing into something more appropriate when he drew a startled glance from one of the tourists.

The mirror seemed to follow her wherever she traveled in the mortal realm. Unseen by humans, it lingered on walls and in spaces where Sarah could reach it when she had a need.

In the days afterward, Sarah used the portal to visit her friends and family, assuring them all that she was okay. Despite having been in the Underground for what felt like weeks, only a handful of days had passed in the mortal realm. Jareth assured her this was not always the case, "Time flows… strangely between the worlds." He motioned at the clocks that adorned their study, "Even with these, it can be difficult to ascertain exactly how _much_ of a difference there will be."

Larry and Steven were positively frantic about her sudden disappearance, and Sarah had to sit through a long police interview in which she assured them that she had simply slipped out of the garden on that fateful night to rendezvous with her lover. Her friends were not entirely convinced but, when it came down to it, they were happy to have her back, even if they were a bit peeved. They had, apparently, peppered the entire neighborhood with fliers and were beginning to raise awareness of her disappearance. "A pretty pregnant woman disappears in the middle of Los Angeles?" Larry _tsked_ , "That's media gold, honey."

When she had repeated the incident to Jareth, they spent the night crafting a subtle but comprehensive memory spell that would explain away any of the inconsistencies in her sudden disappearance and reappearance from the Aboveground. Carefully, they cast the spell upon each member of her friends and family.

Jareth was, eventually, introduced to everyone as their fear over Sarah's whereabouts faded. At first hesitant to be in the Aboveground for more than a few minutes, he soon eased into the role they devised. He and Sarah wrought glamor around themselves to appear more human, Jareth's flyaway hair brought to heel by the magical influence. He played the role of a rich, jet-setting old-world aristocrat type, who had wooed Sarah through a series of dashing and implausible events leading up to the night he had spirited her away from the garden.

Sarah rather thought he was enjoying his 'back story' entirely too much, as he waxed on about one daring adventure after another. All the stories seemed to end with him sweeping Sarah into his arms and carrying her off into the sunset. "Do you have a secret love of bodice-rippers that I was previously unaware of?" Sarah asked one night when they returned from a dinner with her parents and Toby.

Jareth smiled and shook himself, his glamor falling like water droplets until he appeared as the usual tall and imposing Goblin King. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

She arched her eyebrows at him, but his face remained impassive. Letting out a sigh, Sarah wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head against his chest. "Daddy took it well, I think."

His hand came down to rest on her stomach. She was far more pronounced now and though she had learned that Fae pregnancies were longer than humans, she had the feeling that she was more than half way along. The baby was starting to move more, and Jareth often touched her belly to feel their little one stirring within. He smiled down at his hand as the baby gave a particularly nice little tumble. "Oh, he took me aside and had a talk. He said I had to make an honest woman out of you, and some other things that were, frankly, utter nonsense."

Sarah laughed, "It means we get married."

He snorted, "Ridiculous. We're bonded. Words cannot change that, or make it stronger."

She pulled back a little so she could see his face, "It would make them happy, and it would make _me_ happy. I was raised among humans, after all. I have certain expectations about eternal love and all that, but… we'll talk about it. I think I'd prefer to do a ceremony after I have the baby." She motioned at her stomach.

He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers, "We will do as you like if you wish. And you look radiant, my darling."

She wrinkled her nose, "I'm fat."

"Hm," he murmured, his hands falling to her waist, "I don't see it." He grinned lasciviously, "Perhaps I should divest you of your clothing, so as better to inspect you?"

####

Sarah and Jareth took flight together almost every night from the aerie. From high above, they could keep an eye on the Labyrinth and its citizens.

At first fearful of the change, Sarah quickly grew to love the feel of the wind beneath her wings and the fierce, joyful challenge of racing Jareth through the tops of trees and above long fields of wheat and barley. Sometimes she would beat her wings until she felt she would almost reach the stars and, as soon as she felt she could climb no higher, tuck her wings about her and dive.

The first time she had done so, Jareth had panicked and flown past her to shift back into his human form, prepared to catch her if he must. She had grazed the top of his head with her talons as she drew out of the dive, an owlish shriek the equivalent of laughter from her avian throat.

She had paid for that later. Jareth could be very creative with a few scarves and the proper incentive.

####

The Labyrinth brought Sarah to the cavern when the child was close to its arrival. She awoke tangled in bed sheets to an insistent pressure against her temples. Jareth was fast asleep, his arm thrown over his head and his bare chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths. She took a moment to drink in the sight of him, marveling once again at the way he made her feel whenever she looked at him. _Will I ever be used to this?_

Sarah wrapped a heavy brocade dressing gown around herself and slipped her feet into hard-soled slippers before she followed the impatient tapping on her senses. She grumbled at the sensation, her lower back aching, and her head still fuzzy from sleep. Because she was so close to delivery she was nervous about the shift into her owl form, and the fortnight without the freedom of flight had left her ill-tempered. _How quickly we grow used to things,_ she mused, _I never thought I would be sad about a lack of bird feathers._

The pressure led her through the corridors of the castle until she reached a door cleverly hidden behind a rich tapestry. Pulling it aside, she slipped through and into the passageway.

She could not say how long she walked, but gradually the floor sloped upward and the torchlight grew dim, to be replaced by a soft green luminescence. The walls melded from quarried stone into natural rock, the air growing warm and comforting.

Ludo waited for her as the hall gave way to a cavern, his wide mouth open in a grin. She embraced her friend gently, her heart swelling to see him alive and well. They had spent precious little time together so far, the red giant's presence a scarce and precious thing. "Hello, old friend," she said as she stepped away.

He smiled at her and inclined his head toward the dark shadows of the cave, "Show you, Sarah."

She followed the beast, her hand rested lightly on his back as the light dimmed to nothing. She felt the presence of the Labyrinth grow strong in her mind, shifting restlessly against her. She reached out toward it, and it seemed to still and almost _purr_ under her mental touch.

Ludo stepped aside to reveal a cavern of glittering lights, glowing walls, and an enormous stone pillar set in the middle of the floor. Sarah studied it with a frown, but her attention was drawn away by a scraping sound behind her. Jareth emerged from the shadows, his hair disheveled and an unbuttoned shirt thrown over his bare torso. He considered the tableau before him and sighed, leaning against one of the live stone walls of the cavern.

"You followed me?"

He raised his eyebrows, "Of course I did. I would be a terrible king and father-to-be if I let my pregnant queen wander off on her own in the dead of night."

Sarah frowned at that. She was so used to being trailed by her unseen, unheard guards that she had taken it for granted that they were with her. _I thought I learned that lesson the first time I was here, but apparently not._ "What is this place?"

He nodded toward Ludo, "I believe he's about to show you."

She turned her head to look over at her friend. He placed one large, leathery palm on her shoulder and nudged her toward the stone at the center of the cave. She noted that the pillar was carved with the curving, twisting symbol that was at the heart of the pendant she wore around her neck. Sarah let herself be led to within about a foot of the stone and felt the air thicken around her until it was almost as though she were breathing water. When Ludo placed his hands on her shoulders, the presence of the Labyrinth swelled and seemed to fill the entire chamber.

 _"My queen,"_ it rumbled from the very stones, _"I wished to speak to you before the babe who has been prophesized is brought into this world."_

Sarah threw a quick, frantic glance at Jareth. His arms were folded across his chest, his head tilted as he listened. She turned back to the stone at the center of the chamber and licked dry lips, "What do you wish to speak to me about?"

 _"The child you carry is one that has been foretold. It remains in your hands as to which realm he will choose to save. The needs of the humans and the needs of the Fae are of the same. One may live. One may fester. Both may live, or neither. It is not for me to understand or decide."_ The Labyrinth seemed to take a deep breath, and Sarah felt the tickle of wind against her bare skin. It told her of the prophecy and, while she was entranced, she had a vague feeling that she had heard it once before. _"You must choose,"_ The Labyrinth said once he had finished with the tale.

She frowned, "But… I've already chosen. I'm here. The baby will be born here."

 _"You must choose,"_ It repeated.

Sarah cast her eyes anxiously toward Jareth. His brow furrowed, he returned her gaze with his own, hands spread in a gesture of bafflement. She turned her head up to Ludo, but he was intent on the stone at the center of the chamber, his jaw slack, and his eyes unfocused. "I'm sorry," Sarah said. "I don't understand."

 _"Words have power, my queen. Words spoken at the heart of a realm have more."_

She heard Jareth suck in a breath behind her. Sarah's head reeled. _How can I choose one family, one people, or the other?_ Her hand rose to rest on her stomach, the skin taught against the growing person inside. "Why is it up to me? Why can't the child decide?" She felt a little guilty as the words left her mouth, as though she were shoving off a particularly unpleasant task on her unborn offspring, but she could not understand how _her_ words would shape his future.

The Labyrinth was silent.

Sarah took a deep breath and closed her eyes, weighing the choice in her mind. She had learned through her study of the Fae texts that the whole of Faerie was crumbling. The process was slow but, year by year, a little less of the magic remained to the Fair Folk. By contrast, she knew that the human world was relatively stable, all things considered, but there were problems there, too, problems that this child could fix—hunger, poverty, and injustice to name a few. _The Labyrinth said it 'may' be this way or that,_ she thought, _it didn't say that was the way things_ had _to be._

She opened her eyes and reached up to touch the back of her friend's hand, the feel reassuring. She took another great gulp of air and steadied her mind, preparing the words. They fell from her like water, more graceful and fluid than she would have thought possible. When she finished, each of the inhabitants of the cave gave a great, long sigh.

 _"As you will it, so shall it be, my queen."_

####

When the child was born, bells rang across the goblin kingdom, and further still, until all of Faerie echoed and rang with the peeling of bells. Not a one outside of the goblin kingdom was rung on purpose, but Faerie itself seemed to sense the significance of that day even as its many creatures were baffled by the raucous, jubilant noise.

Far away, in the high court of the Summerland, Queen Titania raised a glass of ruby-red liquid in a silent toast. When she brought the wine to her lips, they were curled in a knowing smile.

Further still, in the mortal world, people felt a surge of renewed hope and determination. The sense was subtle. It was like billions of tiny seeds had been planted, one in the soul of each human that walked the earth.

The Goblin King and Queen took to a balcony overlooking their city with the little prince bundled in cloth of brilliant white and gold. They stood shoulder to shoulder, Jareth's hand atop the child, who held his finger in a tight, unrelenting grip. They shone with a radiance and magic that the congregated goblins had not seen for centuries.

For days afterward, the goblins outdid themselves as they feasted, drank, and made merry in celebration of their royal family and their new prince. Flowers and trees sprang up where none had been before, and all the previously crumbled walls and structures re-knit themselves until the kingdom shone clean, bright, and whole as it had not been in living memory.

Faerie itself seemed to grow, great forests many thousands of leagues wide springing up within a single night. Magic flowed freely, shared as it had never been before among its denizens great and small. Every soul within the vast territory seemed to feel light, airy, and as if anything was possible. Peoples and places where no magic had grown for centuries found that the old forces now obeyed their commands. Sparks erupted, storms rumbled, and many arched rainbows shone down over the wide land.

Sarah and Jareth lay abed on that night, wrapped in each other's arms, the infant snuggled between them. The Goblin King, who had thought that he would never feel for another living being as much as he felt for Sarah, found himself overcome with tenderness and love at the sight of his son. The queen, exhausted still from a laborious birth, was nonetheless content, her body curled around the two people she loved most in all the worlds.

And far away, in an eternally shadowed place where few dared to venture for fear of specters and ghosts of a long-dead civilization, there was the sound of breaking glass, and a thousand fires flared.

 **The End**

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 **A/N:** Last author's note in the "last chapter" (AKA: Not a Chapter)


	21. NOT A CHAPTER

Warning: **This is not a chapter**

Obviously. The last one ended with 'The End' so… there's that. Also, part of this is a rant. You have been warned.

Onward:

This has been quite the ride, and I'm both touched and amazed at those of you who joined me.

I wanted to take a few moments to speak on a few comments and questions that have been asked over the course of writing this, and to write about a few things I would like you all to know…

1\. I have left the end of this story open to a sequel. I _know_ that there are things unresolved. That's on purpose. Just as I'm bored of the atypical *coughTwilightcough* romances, I'm also bored of stories that end as soon as the romance is consummated/the danger is over. I know I kind of did that here, but… there is more to love than just falling in love, or the first weeks/months of being together. Sarah and Jareth are, effectively, immortal. They have a lot to learn about each other and a _very long_ and interesting path ahead of them. Someday I will write about it. It might be a shorter piece but, if the little thoughts I've had lead to anything more than just a few stray ideas, I have the feeling it will be just as long as this story.

(but do keep in mind it took me 11 years to re-write 'Perfect' as promised, so please don't hold your breath) 

2\. I realize that there were a few things that were completely forgotten as I wrapped up this story, plus some embarrassing word mix-ups and grammar/spelling mistakes. I know I haven't found everything, but I made notes and edits to my main manuscript, and every one of the chapters has now, officially, been updated with the final story. Among the changes made are; no more Fey/Fae mix-ups, more of a lead-in on Sarah's feelings toward Jareth (so her proclamation of love does not seem to come out of the blue), a better explanation of Dionysus's miasma, and an explanation for why Jareth's eyes went all kaleidoscope-y, among many other things too numerous to list. So if you're ever bored and want to re-read it, the story should flow much better now. 

3\. I tried to keep this story as true to the timeline of Labyrinth (the movie) as possible. I may have made some errors, but in essence I wanted this story to take place around 1999. The (possible) sequel should follow along the same Aboveground timeline. 

4\. (Warning: rant ahead)

I am bored _unto death_ of romances where the men step in as these muscle and testosterone-laden protectors who constantly save the woman and basically engage in controlling, manipulative, cave-man style behavior. While I know that some of you wanted to see more swooning from Sarah I, as a writer, am tired of reading those stories and doubly tired of writing them.

The character of Sarah in the movie is, yes, immature and irresponsible, but she's _strong_. She rescues as much as she is rescued, if not more. She's shrewd and intelligent. While she had sort of lost her way when I started this story, she was quickly reminded of the strength she carried as she and Jareth traveled the Labyrinth together. Jareth, I believe, wants a queen at his side that serves as more than arm candy. The goblins follow the strong and the victorious anyway, and they would have lost respect for their monarchy if Jareth had chosen a wilting flower as his queen instead of the strong, ass-kicking Sarah.

As an example, there was a review that said, "I didn't love that Jareth so easily allowed [Sarah] to be involved [in the duel]".

Okay, I love my reviewers, but— _allowed?_ Are you serious?

News flash; people do what they want. If you're ever in an adult relationship where you seriously feel like you are not allowed to do something (especially things you love/need to do), you need to get the hell out. I speak from experience here, people! Good, solid relationships are based off mutual trust and respect. Relationships are not, or should not be, hierarchal. Romantic love is the merger of two individuals who share similar goals and interests while maintaining a level of respect, support for one another, proper boundaries, and hopefully a good amount of hot, steamy sex.

*steps off soap box*

Jareth respects Sarah and understands that she's going to do what she knows to be right. Yes, he stands up for himself and puts his foot down when she talks about raising the kiddo on her own but—really, isn't that how most people who are in love would react? She wasn't entirely convinced of it herself, so it only makes sense that he would be a little pushy. It's the only time I intentionally made him a little more machismo and that was because, hey, she kind of needed to hear it. She was afraid, and he was reminding her that they were in a position of power to protect their little one.

5\. If you're ever interested in keeping abreast of my life and times IRL, I have a self-titled blog. Danielle Berggren Dot Com (no spaces, obviously). If'n I ever snatch up one of those oh-so-lucrative publishing deals (that would be sarcasm), you would hear about it there. I write about a lot of real-life drama crap, post artwork, and also post my "legit" fiction. Nothing this long, however.

So thanks to all of you for sticking with me while I've been on this strange and fascinating journey! One final shout-out:

Thank you to the following people who have reviewed while this has been a work in progress: Jatredgirl, MyraValhallah, Honoria Granger, Unnamed Wanderer, Tenjp, Animalwriter, Marie Vance, Kellyn1604, Tioughioga, thelostzelda, Kellyn1604, maraudergurl2010, zaubernuss, TheLifeAndTimesOfANerd, Nicessus, and Rosie. (plus all the Guest posts. I'm not sure if that was many or one)

Special thanks to Jatredgirl, MyraValhallah, Honoria Granger, Unnamed Wanderer, Marie Vance, animal writer, and maraudergurl2010. You've all reviewed consistently if not with every chapter update, and I really, really appreciate all your support and comments as we've moved through this story together.

After experiencing some form or another of writer's block for the last five years, this outpouring of creativity was enlightening and cathartic. I thoroughly enjoyed flexing my literary muscles in this medium.

So, for the last time (this time)…

Love all of you lovelies.

Stay beautiful.

Always,

~Crimson

P.S. - In the end, I wrote 74,704 words (not including author's notes) in this story and, if you include my outtakes, it all totals up to about 89,704 words. All of that in 30 days, which averages 2,490 words per day ('script only) or 2,990 words per day if you count outtakes. (of course I had my good days and my bad days. The best day I wrote 7,337 words and, yes, I keep track of these things)


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